


Out with a Bang

by quizasvivamos



Series: In Every Stitch [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Fashion Designer Blaine, Fashion Designer Kurt, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Project Runway Klaine, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:29:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 50,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1617692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quizasvivamos/pseuds/quizasvivamos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 3rd part of the In Every Stitch 'verse: Kurt & Blaine receive a phone call with a proposition that could further their career. Kurt is asked to be a mentor on the new series Project Runway: Under The Gunn in LA. From opposite sides of the country, they juggle different responsibilities & find that their love and support for each other can come in the most unusual forms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Santorini

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! I had initially planned for Kurt and Blaine's story to end after emBarK, but, really, their story was just beginning. Then I came up with this idea that I couldn't get out of my head, and I had to write it. So, here it is, the third and final installment of this 'verse. The two have been through a lot, so this story is a lot lighter in content and more to celebrate them and how far they have come. I suppose, in a sense, this is their happy ending. :) Comments and feedback are greatly appreciated, motivate me, and give me a reason to keep writing and trying my best - so let me know what you think! Thank you, and I hope you enjoy the story!

Seventy-six degrees and sunny. A cool, gentle breeze rolled in off of the rise and swell of the cerulean expanse surrounding the small Greek isle. Perfect. Blaine blinked and let out a yawn, finally glancing up from his book. Squinting, he lifted his right wrist and checked his watch, his eyebrows raising when it registered. He slid the bookmark in between its pages and set the paperback novel aside, realizing that he had lost track of time while absorbed in the story.

"Hey, Kurt." Blaine reached over, grabbing his bare shoulder to gently shake him awake. "Babe, you should reapply your sunscreen before you get burnt."

A half-conscious Kurt grumbled something barely audible but then rolled over onto his back before propping himself up on his elbows and slowly pushing himself into a sitting position in his beach chair.

He lifted his sunglasses, and his eyes ran the length of his arms and stomach. "You're probably right. I can already see a light tinge." Kurt leaned over and reached for the tube that was poking out from one of their beach totes, but Blaine stopped him by grabbing it first and holding up a hand.

"Just relax. Lie back. I'll take care of it for you." Blaine grinned and cocked his head slightly to the side, pulling the tube of lotion closer to his body and out of Kurt's reach. Kurt withdrew his hand.

"If you insist, my dear." Kurt rolled his eyes, laid back down, and rolled over, acquiescing to his husband's offer and constant desire to take care of him. Blaine rose from his chair, climbed onto the adjacent chair, and was soon straddling Kurt. When the cool lotion hit Kurt's heated skin, he sighed, and Blaine laughed quietly as he began to massage it in.

"It's just not fair," Kurt said, his voice muffled by the chair beneath his face. "You sit in the sun, and you tan, but if I forget sunscreen, I become easily mistaken for someone's crustacean seafood dinner." He grimaced at the thought of being fried crispy.

Blaine laughed. "I'm the only one allowed to eat you."

"That sounds only slightly cannibalistic," Kurt said.

"Well maybe I like how you taste." Blaine leaned down and planted a kiss on Kurt's shoulder, and Kurt shivered but felt the warmth blossom beneath his skin where lips had made contact.

"And you make sure you butter me up every chance you get. Suddenly it all makes sense," Kurt teased.

The breeze kicked up again in its cycle, ruffling Kurt's hair and whipping through Blaine's curls.

They had both decided to forgo product while on their honeymoon: no one would really see them, it was freeing to not worry themselves with routine things, and they would only mess up each others' hair as soon as they weren't in a public space anyway. Hair wasn't the only routine they decided shouldn't be part of their post-wedding revels. Phones were strictly off-limits unless it was an absolute emergency, and everyone back at the boutique and the office knew the stipulations and consequences for breaking the agreement.

Without the stress of work, the week had proven to be a very eventful one indeed. It was the off-season, so not many people were around the island, and, quite often, Kurt and Blaine would get the beach to themselves. If he could see them, Dionysus, the god of wine and - _festivities_ \- would be proud of their shameless, often drunken shenanigans. Between the beach and the hideaway house they had rented that was tucked up in the hills, the two had never gotten off so much in such a short span of time, and they felt like giddy teenagers again, sneaking around but not really having anyone to answer to.

Kurt-married-by-thirty-Hummel was proud to be able to say that he had done it, he had tied the knot - and with over half a year to spare. The wedding had been scheduled for the week following Fashion Week so that they could get away and leave it all behind for a while. It wasn't even having the ring on his finger that was important to him, it was the man currently on top of him who had stuck by him through thick and thin already. And they always came out on top.

Kurt was so in love, he never thought that he would ever have this, a husband that was a regular prince charming and understood him in ways no one else could.

And Blaine was so in love that he couldn't keep his eyes or hands off of his husband, a man who knew him so well and was always there to keep him on track.

"Turn over," Blaine said, shifting his leg to allow mobility.

Kurt rolled over to face Blaine who then resumed straddling him. Hands with lotion were almost immediately on his stomach and sides, and Kurt, being ticklish, couldn't hold in a giggle. Then those hands made their way upward to his chest, their owner smirking knowingly.

"Oh god, Blaine, that isn't fair," Kurt moaned, biting down on and sucking in his bottom lip. Kurt's shorts began to tighten as Blaine ran a thumb over his nipple, and he knew Blaine was proud of himself with that stupid grin plastered on his face.

"We could go back to the house," Blaine said, a glimmer in his eyes.

"You give me no choice. Otherwise, this could get very embarrassing, and I can't be held liable for what I might do to you," Kurt said.

"Getting caught is half the fun. There's no one around, but there _are_ more opportunities to _entertain_ ourselves in an actual bedroom," Blaine said.

"Fuck, Blaine." Kurt placed his palms flat on Blaine's chest and pushed him up so he could sit up in the chair. He threw his arms around the back of Blaine's neck and drew him in for a surprisingly chaste kiss. "Come on. Before this starts to become uncomfortable."

Needing no other prompting, Blaine scrambled out of Kurt's lap, and they quickly gathered up their things, tossing them haphazardly into their beach bags. They folded up their chairs with ease that only came with practice of quick and urgent getaways, and hurried off, laughing as they went, away from the beach, up the hill, and back to the secluded house.

It was like something out of a movie, the aged, white stone building on the hill that overlooked the sparkling blue Aegean Sea. They had all the wine they could drink and a private balcony they spent the evenings on wrapped up in each other after calm days of nothing and long, languid rounds of sex.

"It's like Mamma Mia," Kurt had said when they first arrived after dropping his suitcases to the floor by the bed. "It's gorgeous here." He threw his hands up in the air and twirled around the room. Blaine watched on with a fondness that was only growing with each passing day.

"How can I resist you?" Blaine half-sang before pouncing on Kurt, knocking him into the soft mattress, officially beginning their much deserved week of merry-making.

And now they were back in the room, both already half-hard, eager hands tugging at drawstrings and pulling down on swimsuit waistbands. Blaine dropped to his knees, and Kurt sucked in a sharp breath as Blaine slid his shorts down, allowing Kurt to step out of them.

Then with firm hands, Blaine grabbed Kurt's hips and eased him back onto the edge of the bed. He licked his lips and looked up with wide, hungry eyes, meeting Kurt's. Kurt's cheeks were flushed, his breath was coming out in rapid puffs, and his pupils were blown wide as he gazed down at Blaine between his knees.

"I told you," Blaine said. "I love how you taste." He wrapped his lips around the tip of Kurt's cock and slowly slid his tongue out to tease at the sensitive underside. Kurt let out a low, guttural moan, and Blaine took Kurt all the way into his mouth. Kurt's fingers tangled in Blaine's hair as Blaine ran his hands up and down Kurt's thighs, his thumbs grazing his balls.

He pulled off, and Kurt looked down.

"Why did you - ? Oh." Kurt bit back a moan as Blaine's mouth sank down on him again. Blaine brought a hand up to stroke his length as he continued to suck Kurt off.

"Mm, Blaine. I'm about to -"

Kurt's ringtone went off, filling up the small room with the musical styling of Madge.

"Ah, what the hell?" Blaine said, pulling off again.

It continued to ring.

" _Get into the groove, boy, you've got to prove your love to me..."_

Kurt groaned.

"Are you going to answer it?"

"I don't wanna," Kurt whined. "Can't we just -?"

"But what if it's an emergency?"

"Blaine," Kurt groaned again. The phone continued to go off, and if Kurt didn't answer it soon, he'd miss it. "Fine. I got it." He fell backward and rolled over the bed to snatch his phone off the nightstand. When he glanced at the lit-up screen, he didn't recognize the number, but he quickly hit the green bar and brought the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" Kurt said, frustration only slightly evident in his voice. Blaine rose from the floor and sat down on the bed beside him.

Blaine watched as Kurt's eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open. His heart began to race, and he was worried and anxious while waiting for Kurt to tell him what was going on. Scenarios of all sorts were now whirling around in his head, none of them good. Then a grin spread across Kurt's face that put Blaine at ease but left him all the more intrigued and impatient to find out why.

"Oh, um, wow. Yes, that sounds like a fabulous opportunity. I mean, I'd have to be an idiot to turn it down," Kurt said to the mystery person on the other end. He laughed, probably along with said person.

Blaine scooted in closer to see if he could catch even a snippet of the caller's voice. It was male, that much he could make out.

"When?" Kurt asked. "Okay, I - uh - I think I can make that happen - or, should I say, make it work," Kurt joked.

Blaine narrowed his eyes and then quirked an eyebrow.

"Yes. Thank you, thank you! It was really a pleasure to hear from you, Tim."

Blaine cocked his head to the side, and the corner of his mouth curled upward.

"I hope you have an excellent day! Good bye!" Kurt hung up the phone. His eyes were distant for a moment as he held the phone between both hands and took a deep breath before turning toward Blaine.

"Well? Was that really -?"

"Tim Gunn! Yes!" Kurt nodded vigorously.

"Oh my god - what did he want? What did you just agree to?" Blaine sputtered, completely baffled. He couldn't believe that of all the people in the world they just got cock blocked by Tim Gunn.

"They want me to be a mentor on Under The Gunn," Kurt said, barely able to contain himself.

"That's great!" Blaine threw his arms around Kurt and kissed him briefly.

"I know!" Kurt paused. "There's only one thing..." Kurt said hesitantly.

"What?" Blaine asked, his face falling at the comment and the shift in tone of Kurt's voice.

"It's not in New York. They're filming at the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising in LA," Kurt said.

"Oh." Blaine was quiet for a moment as he made some quick calculations. "But you have to go - you have to do it."

"I really, really want to," Kurt said, his eyes lighting up again. "They start production the beginning of November, but they want me there the last two weeks of October," he explained.

"That's really soon."

"I know." Kurt set the phone down on the nightstand again.

"Well, I guess we have a bit of planning to do - for your trip and for how I'm going to handle the business while you're away," Blaine said.

"But - you're not coming with me?"

"I can't, Kurt. You know that. There's too much to do, and we don't exactly have anyone who we can trust enough to take over for an extended period of time. No, as much as I want to go with you, I'll have to stay in New York."

Kurt shifted on the bed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It'll only be for two months. Then I'll be home, and I'll be all yours again," he said, pressing his index finger against Blaine's chest before letting his hand fall to the mattress.

Blaine leaned over and kissed Kurt on the nose.

"I know. I'm not worried at all. I am, however, a little jealous. I've never been to California before or the West coast for that matter," Blaine said.

"Well, if this works out, we could be going back there together in the very near future," Kurt said. With that, he grabbed Blaine's hand and entwined their fingers.

Blaine looked down at their hands, but his eyes roamed toward Kurt who he couldn't help but notice had gone completely soft. Blaine cleared his throat.

"So," Blaine began. "Where were we?"

"Oh, jeez." Kurt covered his face with his hands. "I know this is going to sound bad, but I'm so worked up now - could we maybe just lay down and cuddle for a little bit instead?"

Blaine pouted. "Alright." Then he laid back, pulling Kurt down with him. They scooted in close to each other, and Blaine pulled Kurt toward him until his back was resting up against Blaine's chest. Kurt breathed steadily and closed his eyes as he took in Blaine's warmth. He ran his fingers softly over the knuckles of the hand pressed against his abdomen. Then Kurt's fingers found Blaine's wedding band, and he touched it and smiled.

"I'm going back, Blaine. This is crazy," Kurt said quietly. "Back again to where we met - where everything began, really."

"It is crazy. You deserve it though, Kurt. You've worked harder than anyone I know, and it's definitely time for you to get some recognition."

"You act as if we aren't moderately famous already," Kurt said. "But, yeah. It'll be nice to have another go at a win. Third time's a charm, right?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you've already won. I really don't want you to get stressed out over this new competition, but I know you'll be fine," Blaine said.

Kurt rolled over to face Blaine.

"No stress. I promise." He brought his mouth to Blaine's and kissed him slowly. When they disconnected, Blaine looked at Kurt through thick eyelashes, and Kurt couldn't resist kissing him again, and again, and again until he was on top of Blaine, deepening the kiss and gradually growing hard again against him.

"Not quite where we were, but this is good too," Blaine said gruffly. He grabbed Kurt's ass and pulled him down, needing the friction, their erections grinding against each other. Kurt whimpered, and Blaine pushed his tongue inside his mouth before pulling away again.

"Can I -?" Kurt asked as he traced a finger down around Blaine's ass.

"Yeah," Blaine said, breathless.

Kurt slid his hand behind Blaine's head and under the pillow and pulled out the bottle of lube from its convenient spot beneath it. Practicality was one of Kurt's many strong suits. He rolled his hips down against Blaine, his cock twitching at the noises that escaped him, before moving down the bed and positioning himself between his legs.

Grabbing one of the pillows, Kurt slid it carefully beneath Blaine to prop him up. He poured some lube on his fingers and ran a warm, slick digit over Blaine's hole before gently pushing it inside. Blaine gasped at the pressure and wriggled beneath him, his breath hitching as Kurt slowly slid it back out and in again. Then Kurt lowered his head and took Blaine into his mouth. Blaine clenched up around him from the unexpected additional contact. But as Kurt slowly sucked and licked Blaine's cock, he pushed his finger in deeper and worked Blaine open. Blaine began to relax and let out soft moans with each thrust and bob of the head.

"K-Kurt, it's almost - too m-much," Blaine managed, and his hips jerked up with another thrust of Kurt's finger, now sliding in and out with ease.

Kurt pulled off. "You want me to stop?"

"No, no, no," Blaine said. "It just feels really good - too good. I won't last long if you keep it up -"

"Alright," Kurt said. He wrapped his free hand around Blaine's cock and stroked slowly, twisting his fist as he pushed a second finger inside Blaine and continued to thrust. Blaine opened up around him so easily that Kurt, now craving release from watching all of Blaine's reactions and hearing all his noises of pleasure, let go of Blaine and began to stroke himself. A third finger, and Blaine was practically begging Kurt to fuck him.

"Please," Blaine said, his voice drawn out and desperate. He grabbed the lube, squeezed some out into his hand, and nearly sat up and reached down to grab Kurt's cock.

"Mm - okay, okay, I can take a hint," Kurt said, pulling his fingers out. Relieved and expectant, Blaine laid back again, and, after squeezing some more lube into his hand and stroking himself a few times, Kurt lined himself up with Blaine's entrance. He slowly pushed himself inside and felt Blaine relax around him. He thrust in deeper, pulling almost all the way out, then pushing back in before building up a steady rhythm. He gripped Blaine's thighs as he continued to thrust, each one met with a grunt or a moan that only motivated him to go faster.

"You don't have to hold it in, baby," Kurt said. "No one can hear us up here."

"I - know," Blaine said. Then he wrapped his hand around his cock, jerking himself off while Kurt fucked into him, and he cried out as he came. It streaked his stomach and across his chest, and seeing Blaine wrecked was enough to push Kurt over the edge.

"Y-yeah," Kurt groaned as he thrust deeply, one, two, three more times, his body shuddering as he came inside Blaine.

Breathing heavily, Kurt slid out of Blaine and then collapsed onto the bed next to him. Blaine reached over, pulled some tissues from the bedside reserve that was dwindling and soon to be depleted, and cleaned himself up before rolling over with some difficulty to face Kurt.

There was a wordless exchange between them as Blaine's eyes scanned Kurt's, dropped down to his swollen lips, and then found their way back to his husband's eyes which now appeared a greenish gray in the gradual fading of the last daylight hours.

"I'm gonna miss you," Blaine said. "And this."

Kurt scrunched up his face and chuckled softly.

"I'm not gone yet, Blaine. Jeez. We still have another day in Greece before we head home and then another month in New York before I take off."

"I know, I know. It's just that - I'm selfish and want you here with me always."

"I think we've spoiled ourselves with this vacation," Kurt said.

"I think you're right. What if we just stayed here forever?" Blaine said.

Kurt laughed.

"We'd go broke."

"Good point."

"Trust me, I'd stay here if we could, or at least keep traveling without having to worry about work and responsibilities," Kurt said. "But I also know I couldn't possibly stay away from designing and would want to go home eventually anyway."

"Me too," Blaine admitted. "It's like it runs in our veins now, and I honestly couldn't imagine doing anything else with anyone else."

Kurt let out a lengthy sigh and was quiet for a moment.

"New York draws me back like a magnet no matter what I do. But I think that it's mostly because you're there, and we've built this life together. I mean, we could make clothes anywhere, really, but it's home."

"Let's enjoy the last days of our vacation, and we'll be back in the city in no time," Blaine said.

"Oh, no, no.. I don't want to rush back by any means. I mean, how many more times will I get to see your lovely curls freed of gel for such an extended period of time?" Kurt combed his fingers through Blaine's hair and twirled a curl around his index finger.

"Probably never," Blaine laughed. "And I know I'm going to miss you being naked almost all day and freed of all your pesky layers." Blaine reached over and playfully grabbed Kurt's ass. Kurt swatted his hand away and giggled.

"You know that's never going to change."

"I do. And I love it, no matter how difficult it makes it to tear all your clothes off when all I want is your body against mine."

"I make you work for it," Kurt said. "And you have excellent work ethic."

"And it's that much more satisfying when I succeed," Blaine said.

"Oh," Kurt said, looking down at Blaine whose cock was growing hard. "Again?"

"It can't be helped. You're gorgeous, you know. It's unfair."

Kurt chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"Come here." He grabbed Blaine by his slim waist and pulled him flush against him. "Let's make the best of our last two days. No clothing, no product, no phones...just us." They closed the gap between them, and Blaine hummed contentedly against Kurt's mouth as they slid their lips together.


	2. Empire State

The apartment was exactly how they had left it: sketchbooks piled on the coffee table, Kurt’s tablet on the counter, Blaine’s laptop on the bed, magazines all throughout the apartment on any available surface, and nothing but a few condiments, a couple cans of diet soda and a lone beer in the fridge.

What wasn’t the same was the alarming number of emails in both Kurt and Blaine’s inboxes ranging from Twitter and Facebook notifications to a few ‘how are you’s from Rachel and Finn or Burt and Carole.

“We gained nearly two-thousand followers since the wedding,” Kurt said as he scrolled through the emails.

“That’s crazy.” Blaine came up behind him to look over his shoulder at the screen. “I bet they’re worried because we haven’t posted anything in over a week.”

“Nah. Besides the spam, it looks like most of the messages are congratulations.”

“That’s really sweet,” Blaine said. He placed his hands on Kurt’s shoulders and massaged them gently.

“Yeah. Thousands of complete strangers care about us and every little thing we do. It’s sweet, but it’s also something else,” Kurt laughed.

“It comes with the territory, you know that.”

“Oh, yeah, and I was prepared. I just can’t wait to see the internet explode when I make the announcement about the new show,” Kurt said. He swiped his finger over the screen again to bring up a new window.

“I would stay off the computer for at least a week after,” Blaine joked. “Give them some time to calm down.”

“I should probably check in with Tyler and  get up to speed. I know we weren’t gone that long, but you know how I get - I need to be on top of everything,” Kurt said.

“And that’s why I keep you around.” Blaine kissed Kurt on the cheek. “So, what were you thinking about for dinner? There’s nothing in the fridge, so we’ll need to either order in or go out.”

“Hm, I’m kinda craving pizza,” Kurt said. “But, I want to stretch my legs and get back out into the city.”

“A night out it is, then.”

After a relaxing meal of classic New York cuisine, a half-hour subway ride, and their stroll around the city, Blaine was not surprised that their night out ended at the boutique. Kurt really couldn’t stay away, and there was a lot of gossip that he had apparently missed and immediately began to catch up on upon entering. They checked in with Tyler who had only a few minor things to report on, but Andrea, one of the designers they had brought onto their team, seemed to be bursting with information.

“You know those guys from England? They’re like the new Beatles or something, only there’s five of them,” Andrea said.

“One Direction?” Kurt said.

“Yeah, that’s who I meant. Well, anyway, they’re in New York right now, and everyone’s after the tall, curly-haired one for magazine shoots and modeling gigs,” she went on.

“Were you trying to stalk them or something?” Kurt asked.

“Of course I was. Who wouldn’t be?”

“Well, then, did you? Did you find Harry Styles in the city? Please tell me you found Harry Styles,” Kurt said, his eyes lighting up.

Andrea tightened her lips, her eyes full of mischief, looked to the side, and then pulled out her phone. Kurt bounced on the balls of his feet, clapping as she opened her photos.

Kurt gasped. “Oh my god. That’s not just Harry, that’s...Larry.” He covered his mouth and continued to look on at the picture in awe.

“Who? One of them is named Larry? I thought that was Louis. I’m so confused,” Andrea said.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Kurt laughed. “That is Louis - Louis and Harry. Larry.”

Andrea’s eyes grew wide. “Ooh...I get it.”

“You can’t post that online,” Kurt said, suddenly growing serious. “Just - don’t.”

“Why not? I wasn’t going to, but why?”

“You would open a can of worms and start a riot, and no one wants to deal with all of that,” Kurt explained. “Besides - ” He snatched the phone from her hands and sent the photo to himself. “I want to keep this one for myself.”

“I didn’t realize it was such a big deal,” she said, now laughing at Kurt’s excitement as he handed her phone back.

His phone vibrated in his pocket to signal the reception of the text. “It is -”

“Oh it definitely is,” Blaine cut in. “Kurt takes his boy bands seriously, especially when it comes to One Direction.”

“Larry, my dear,” Kurt said, glancing sideways at him.

“Oh yes. How could I be so clueless?” Blaine jested.

“Anyway,” Kurt said, directing his attention back to Andrea. “It’s a shame we don’t have a menswear line, isn’t it. I would love to dress him up.” He sighed.

“Wouldn’t we all,” she said. “Speaking of dressing up, a few more commissions came in, and we’re pretty much booked for the awards season.”

“That’s fantastic!” Blaine said. “We’ll have to go through them tomorrow and begin planning and sketching.”

“Oh, yeah. Andrea, Blaine is going to be the only one running things around here for a little while,” Kurt said.

“Really? Why?”

“I’m going to be in LA for about two months working on a project,” Kurt said.

“Is it top secret or something?”

“For now, yes. I’m not allowed to say anything quite yet. But when I can, you’ll know. Don’t worry, it’s exciting and a good thing for all of us,” he said.

“Now you’ve got me curious, and you know how impatient I am. C’mon,” she whined.

“Trust me. It’ll be worth the wait,” Kurt said, beaming.

-s-

The next few weeks flew by too quickly for Blaine’s liking, and before they knew it, it was time to send Kurt off. Blaine reached into the drawer and pulled out a few of Kurt’s undershirts. He turned toward the bed where Kurt was carefully packing shoes into one of his three suitcases. Blaine let out a heavy sigh and stepped over to set them on the bed. When he turned his head again, he saw the open drawer now empty, and he felt a pang in his stomach.

“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we,” Blaine said.

“What? What prompted that thought?”

“I just - I remember the last time your drawer was empty, but this time it’s sort of - joyful.”

Kurt froze for a moment, his eyes growing sad for a split second before becoming bright again. “Yeah. It’s definitely on different terms,” Kurt agreed.

Blaine breathed in deeply, and then turned to meet Kurt’s eyes. He smiled, and Kurt’s lips curled up in response.

“I want you to take tons of pictures and send them to me. I can pretend I’m there with you,” Blaine said, still grinning.

“Don’t worry. Every off moment I get, I won’t be able to help myself. You can expect texts, calls, and late-night Skype sessions,” Kurt said. “Because I’ll miss your face.”

“Mm,” Blaine hummed. “That all sounds perfect to me.”

“So, what outfits should I pack? If I’m not mistaken, LA winters are mild,” Kurt said.

“Let me see...” Blaine walked over to the closet and searched through Kurt’s clothing. He slid a few shirts out of the way before pulling a few hangers out. “These will be perfect.” He laid them on the bed, and Kurt examined his picks.

“Yep. Perfect.” And he began to fold them and pack them neatly in the designated case.

Blaine went through Kurt’s accessories, choosing some of his favorite scarves and brooches, and Kurt chose some shorts and light pairs of pants. Soon, they had completely filled all three suitcases, and zipped them up with a sort of content finality. Kurt was leaving in the morning.

 -s-

The cab pulled up to JFK Airport, and Blaine paid the fare as Kurt got out to retrieve his luggage from the trunk.

“You’ve got everything?” Blaine asked, Kurt’s carry on in hand and messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

“Yep.” Kurt pulled the handle out on his one suitcase and shut the trunk.

They made their way into the airport and over to baggage check, dropping off two of the cases. Then Blaine turned toward Kurt and sighed.

“I guess this is it. I can’t go any further with you without a ticket of my own.”

Kurt grabbed Blaine’s arm. “I’m a big boy, Blaine. No need to hold my hand.” He grinned. Blaine looked down at the ground and let out a low laugh.

“I know. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. I know how big this is for both of us, but it’s hard to let go.” He paused. “Call me or text me as soon as you get there?” Blaine said, looking back up into Kurt’s eyes.

“I promise.” Kurt leaned in and kissed Blaine’s lips, a short kiss, but filled with the promise, and it eased all the tension in Blaine’s body and calmed his mind. “I better go now. The flight leaves at 9 and it’s -” Kurt checked his phone - “8:26. Shit.”

“I love you,” Blaine said as Kurt turned and began to walk away.

He spun back around, his eyes wide. “I love you too,” Kurt said, stepping forward to give Blaine one last hug before turning around and heading toward the queue, his ticket and ID at the ready.

Blaine watched from beyond the barriers as the line moved along, taking Kurt farther and farther away from him. And then Kurt waved before going through security and disappearing on the other side.

-s-

Kurt dozed off for a bit during the five-and-a-half-hour flight. When the plane touched down and he wearily made his way into the crowded airport, he finally turned his phone back on only to see that the time had adjusted itself and that he had one text message:

**Blaine**

9:14 AM

_I love you. I miss you already._

He swiftly typed a response:

_I’m here safely. I love you more._

He looked at the time: 12:32. It was going to be a long day. And he was already exhausted from the flight. Baggage claim took less time than expected, and Kurt hummed as he rolled his suitcases toward the door.

The sun was exceptionally bright when he exited LAX, and, squinting, Kurt took his sunglasses out of his messenger bag and slid them on. He loosened the scarf around his neck, already tempted to take it off along with the light jacket that had been appropriate in New York and on the chilly flight but was now threatening to cause him to suffer heat exhaustion.

The shuttle took him across town to his hotel, and during the ride he watched Los Angeles roll by out the window as he was carried along toward Downtown. His stomach fluttered, and he squirmed in his seat as excitement bubbled up inside of him. He had seen LA in movies and on television, but actually being here was different. And there were palm trees! There were really palm trees along almost every street. It seemed such a silly thing to get excited over at his age, but Kurt didn’t care.  

Once at the hotel, he didn’t take time to unpack having decided to leave it for later. He was anxious to get a bit of sightseeing in before he settled in for the evening and passed out.

Kurt grabbed lunch and then wandered around. He hopped a bus that took him toward the Paramount Pictures studios, and it suddenly occurred to him that he was in Hollywood. Some of the biggest celebrities were possibly only feet away from him, and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he ran into anyone.

When he got off the bus, he pivoted around, breathing in deeply. Then his eyes locked on something all-too-familiar but so surreal to see in real life.

Kurt lifted his phone up and took a few snapshots of the hill in the distance. He opened up a text message to Blaine, attached a photo, typed out a short caption, and hit send.

-s-

Blaine felt his phone buzz against his leg and jumped. He set down his routine midday coffee and pulled it out of his pocket. When he opened the message from Kurt, a picture of the Hollywood sign popped up on the screen, and Blaine read the short caption:

_Wish you were here._

He quickly responded.

_Me too_

But now it’s your time to shine, Blaine thought. And he smiled as he looked at the picture for a moment more.

-s-

The next day, when Blaine opened his laptop, he saw the same picture pop up on his Twitter feed.

 

* * *

**Kurt Hummel** @emBarKurt

Exciting news for you guys! I can officially announce

that I will be a mentor on Under The Gunn!

#UnderTheGunn #ProjectRunway #hereigoagain

pic.twitter.com/k14...

* * *

**Notifications:**

_Blaine favorited your tweet_

_Blaine retweeted your tweet_

**529 retweets 280 favorites**

* * *

**Blaine Anderson** @emBarKBlaine

“And I can't believe that I'm your man,

And I get to kiss you baby just because I can

Whatever comes our way, we'll see it through,

And you know that's what our love can do”

* * *

**Notifications:**

_Kurt favorited your tweet_


	3. Taking Flight in the City of Angels

His body clock was all out of whack the first few days he was in California, so Kurt was glad that production didn’t begin until that Monday. Kurt found himself sleeping in longer than planned and waking up in a warm state of bliss from the sun streaming through the window. He had awoken from a dream in which he was baking cookies, pies, and other pastries; everything was warm and bright - there was Blaine’s smile...and he was very disappointed when he rolled over, opened his eyes, and only saw an empty pillow which was not very good for cuddling or eating, that was for sure.

The hotel in which Kurt was staying was conveniently located only minutes from the Fashion District, and he couldn’t pass up the opportunity for a day trip. Kurt realized that covering all one hundred blocks of the LA Fashion District would be an impossible feat, but he was more than content to spend the day in and out of as many shops as possible.

After wandering around the textiles section, he traveled a few blocks over to the accessories stores where he was unable to help himself from splurging a little. Okay, maybe a lot. He probably would have bankrupted himself had the store clerk not guided him toward the checkout, jingling the store keys in his hand as a polite reminder that closing time was fast approaching.

And so his day of shopping in the heart of Los Angeles was over. He felt like Julia Roberts, except he had no sexy man waiting for him back in his hotel room. Upon exiting the store, Kurt pulled out his phone, snapped a picture of his new purchases, and sent it off to Blaine with the heart eyes emoji. Then, with a contented sigh, he readjusted his bags and began the trek back to his hotel.

On his way back, bags swinging at his sides, he passed a few flower shops. A colorful display in the window triggered a memory, and Kurt thought back fondly to that unconventional floral challenge, the one that had changed everything between him and Blaine. If Blaine had been there with him, he would have stopped to buy a bouquet or even a single rose - to celebrate them.

Running low on fuel and feeling hunger gnawing at his stomach, Kurt stopped at Avocado to pick up dinner. He felt a little foolish as he sat shirtless in bed eating takeout, but he was pooped from the day, and it wasn’t like anyone was around to judge him. Besides, he had never had Colombian cuisine before, and it was fantastic. He ate until he was practically bursting.

After tossing the empty container in the wastebasket, Kurt laid back in the bed with his tablet. Rather than going on social media, he pulled out his stylus, opened up a sketchbook app, and began to sketch. He didn’t have any particular reason for it, and it wasn’t like he would need to design while he was mentoring, but he felt inspired by his mini adventure, and it made him feel more at home and in his element when he was so far from it.

-s-

The sun had just begun to peek over the Hollywood Hills when Kurt’s eyes fluttered open. He stretched his arms up above his head and let out a lengthy yawn before rolling over to check the time.His stomach grumbled, and his first thought was to lift up the phone to order room service. But, as he leaned over to reach for the phone, it hit him that it was the first day of production, and excitement pulsed through him like an electric current that jump-started him awake. Suddenly, all he could think about was putting the perfect outfit together, grabbing a coffee, and rushing out the door and over to FIDM.

Today was the day Kurt would meet all the designers and choose his mentees. He was especially anxious to meet his own competition, the other two mentors, and it honestly hadn’t crossed his mind who they could be. That particular information was withheld from him.

He spritzed the last bit of hairspray toward his perfectly styled pompadour and replaced the cap. After one last once over, feeling like a kid off to his first day of school, Kurt took a selfie in the mirror and messed around on his phone for a minute before sending it to Blaine.

The hotel was practically across the street from FIDM, and Kurt was there in no time at all. When he stepped into the main room, he saw the production crew bustling about, and then he spotted Tim Gunn already in a conversation with two other people. When Kurt approached them, they turned, and it took everything within him to maintain his composure.

“Welcome, Kurt!” Tim Gunn said. “It’s so great to see you again! It’s great to see all of you,” he added, turning to the others. “I’m fairly certain you’ve all met before...?”

“Hello, Kurt,” Isaac said, giving him a less than subtle once over. “The years have been very kind to you, I see.”

“Yes, they have. Thank you,” Kurt said with a forced smile. Of course one of his competitors would be the man who all but stole his chance at the title back in his original season. “It’s great to see you again, Isaac.”

“Hummel,” the woman said. Kurt flicked his eyes over toward her.

“Amanda,” Kurt answered. He tried to conceal a sigh. “This is fantastic,” he said, but his eyes said otherwise.

“Oh, how I missed your winning attitude. Speaking of winning, it’s too bad Blaine wasn’t asked to return,” she said. “How is he doing, anyway?”

“He’s great - we’re great,” Kurt said. He absentmindedly touched his left ring finger and began to twist his wedding band around it. “Blaine is taking care of our boutique and office while I’m here.”

“Well, guys, it’s time to get down to business,” Tim cut in. “We’re shooting the introductions on the front lawn in about forty-five minutes.”

After escorting Kurt and the others to hair and makeup for a quick pit stop, where body mics were strapped to each of them, Tim showed them where the lounge and refreshments were and then shooed the designers out the main entrance and into the LA sun.

The production crew finished getting into position, and Kurt stood for a few moments, watching as they made sure to hold the boom mics just out of the cameras’ peripheral. They sent a few hand signals to each other, Kurt and the others were given their cues, and then the cameras began to roll.

Kurt, Isaac, and Amanda looked on while fifteen designers marched up the lawn toward where they stood on the steps.

Tim Gunn introduced each designer, announced the big prize, and then explained the first challenge. There were large buckets spaced out on the lawn that were filled with bolts of fabric, and the designers were to choose wisely within the time limit and make something that best represented their individual aesthetic.

As the designers raced about, grabbing fabric and trying not to knock into each other, Kurt was trying to gauge the taste level of the designers, but all he could go off of was what they were currently wearing and the materials they were choosing. Only two people caught his eye, but he knew that it wasn’t a proper indication of their abilities as designers. When time was up, the designers were sent to the workroom, and Kurt was relieved to know that the mentors would be flipping through portfolios in the lounge as they worked.

He situated himself on the one couch next to Isaac, and Amanda soon joined them on his other side. They paged through the portfolios together, commenting on certain things and getting the gist of each designer’s ability and style. It didn’t take long for Kurt to choose who he thought had the most potential and with whom he’d work best.

Then it was the mentor’s time to finally enter the workroom and talk to the designers. As they approached the first of the group, Kurt took a deep breath. The rest of the afternoon was a blur of chiffon and cotton blends, but he kept in mind which portfolios he had liked and made mental notes of what they were currently creating for the challenge. If everything went as planned, he was confident that he already had his winning team picked out.  

When it came to the runway, however, he began to wonder if he had jumped the gun on some of his choices. As the looks came down, Kurt was impressed by some and underwhelmed by others, but he stuck to his original picks. The designers stood before them, and it soon became apparent that it might not be as simple as he initially thought.

“If more than one of the mentors choose you,” Tim explained to the designers, “then you have the final choice for whose team you wish to join.”

Amanda had first pick.

“Ruby,” she said. “I would like to work with you, and I want you on my team.”

Oh, hell no, Kurt thought. Ruby was his first choice, but he wasn’t surprised that this might turn into a battle for the cream of the crop, those few designers who stood out above the rest.

“I would also love to work with you,” Kurt announced. “I really like your aesthetic, and you have a lot of potential to improve.”

“Isaac?” Tim Gunn said.

“I love what you do, Ruby, but I don’t think you’re the best match for me,” he said. And Kurt felt a little lighter, knowing that he now had the upper hand.

“So it’s up to you, Ruby,” Tim said.

“Oh, god. Um, this is tough.”

“I won’t lie to you, this is going to be a lot of work, but I think that we can both learn a lot from each other,” Kurt said. “And, together, we could win this thing.”

“I believe in your abilities,” Amanda said.

Kurt didn’t feel threatened by Amanda at all. He knew that he was not only the better designer, but she was anything but smooth.

“Well I am a huge fan of Kurt’s work, and he’s amazing,” she began. “So, thank you, Amanda, but I’m going to have to go with Kurt!”

Kurt thanked her with a quick hug, and when she left the runway, he smiled politely but was fist pumping internally at his good fortune.

And the process went on: he battled it out and lost one of his favorites to Isaac, nearly lost one to Amanda but was victorious, and then finally had his entire team composed, most of whom he felt confident about. It seemed that his age was one of the factors that made working with him so appealing, so he used that, along with his wit, to his advantage to win over his mentees. Three of the designers were sent home, and the remaining twelve were evenly distributed among the mentors.

When all was said and done, Kurt walked away with three of his four top picks and one designer who he believed could either be the dark horse of the bunch or simply a black sheep.

“Now that you all have your mentees, there are a few things I’d like to go over with you,” Tim said once they were back in the lounge. “First, I want to thank you all for hanging in there today. The next challenge is tomorrow, so I want you all to keep in mind that you are here to guide the designers, not to design for them. It might get a bit frustrating at times, but that’s going to be your challenge: seeing what it’s like to be in my position and learning how to be a support system for your mentees in order to bring out their best and reach their highest potential.”

“So if I see something that is absolutely ratchet, I can tell my designer to get rid of it?” Amanda asked.

“More or less,” Tim answered.

“I’m sure the designers would benefit more from a bit of constructive criticism,” Kurt said pointedly, directing it toward Amanda. “Remember, we have been in their shoes before.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I mean, not everyone is a sad little puppy like Blaine who you can just snap at and he’ll still come back, tail wagging, and jump in your bed at night,” Amanda sneered.

“Whoa,” Isaac said. “I can’t say I completely get the reference, but I want nothing to do with your drama.”

“It would be best to maintain an air of professionalism,” Tim Gunn said. “Lest you lose your credibility with your designers. I understand this is still a competition, but it’s best we leave old feuds in the past.” He raised his eyebrows at Amanda and Kurt.

“I’m over it,” Kurt said. “No hard feelings here, but I’d ask that you not talk about my husband like that again.” He smirked, feeling his old, snarky competitive attitude resurfacing. Amanda rolled her eyes and huffed.

“Anyway,” Isaac cut in. “Do we get a heads up on the challenge?”

“That’s an excellent question. I can only tell you that you’ll want to dress comfortably for the beach, and we’ll be going to Mood for fabrics. The rest should be just as much of a surprise to you as it is for your mentees,” Tim said. “Make sure you all get some sleep and are well-rested for tomorrow.”

When they were finally dismissed, Isaac pulled a confused Kurt to the side, leaving Amanda to walk on alone as she left the premises.

“Hey, I just wanted to tell you that, despite everything that happened in the past, I’ve always respected you and have been a fan of your designs,” he said. “Amanda is a bit rude, no?”

“Um, thank you. I’m not concerned about her, really. She’s more of a nuisance than anything, and nothing to get too worried about,” Kurt said. “She’s just sore that I took her ‘friend’,” Kurt made air quotes and rolled his eyes, “away from her.”

“I just don’t want there to be any weirdness between us,” Isaac said.

Isaac’s choice of the word ‘weirdness’ struck Kurt funny for some reason. “There isn’t, last time I checked,” Kurt responded. But he was still bitter, try as he might to let what happened in the past go. He knew that his anger should be more directed toward the clearly blind judges who handed him second place. Still, he couldn’t help but resent Isaac, even after all these years. So he took a breath and reminded himself that, even though he hadn’t won, he was anything but unsuccessful. Kurt Hummel was a well-known name in New York now, and he tried to hold on to that knowledge to boost himself up when he felt low in Isaac’s presence.

“Good. Well, see you tomorrow, Kurt. This competition should be a trip,” Isaac said, and Kurt missed the hopeful look that crept onto his face.

“Yeah, it’ll be something alright. See ya.” And Kurt waved goodbye before making his way back to his hotel.

-s-

Once he was back in the hotel room, there was only one thing on Kurt’s mind. He grabbed his tablet off the desk and plopped down into the bed. With all-too-eager fingers, Kurt opened Skype and tapped the call button on the first name on the list.

“Hey.” Blaine’s face popped up on Kurt’s screen. His voice was gruff, and, with a quick glance at the clock, Kurt was sure he had woken him.

“I’m sorry for Skyping so late. Today was a little longer than I expected. What time is it there -?”

Blaine’s eyes flicked down to the corner of his screen. “1:43 AM.”

“I’m so sorry -”

“No, don’t be, Kurt. I’m glad I get to see your face and hear your voice before I go to sleep.”

“But you were already asleep.”

“And now I’m awake and talking to my beautiful husband. So - how was the first day of filming?”

“I didn’t realize they were going to shoot two challenges in one day. It was incredibly exhausting. They already eliminated three people, and I officially have my four mentees,” Kurt said.

“Well, that’s good. Did you get who you wanted?”

“Mostly. You’ll never guess who the other mentors are, Blaine.”

“Who?”

“Isaac...and Amanda.”

“No -”

“Yep.”

“How weird is that?”

“Very. But the way I see it is that I’m getting a second chance. And this time, I’m going to win. Just like I should have the first time around,” Kurt said. “Beating Amanda again isn’t really a concern.”

“You will. You’ll win.”

“The competition isn’t riding on my designs though.”

“I know, but you’re a great mentor. You’ve already proven that with how you are with Andrea and the others on our team. And I’ve also learned a lot from working with you, believe it or not. You have a lot of techniques and natural talent up your sleeve, Kurt.”

“Maybe.” Kurt sighed. Blaine seemed to yawn in response, and Kurt laughed. “I should let you get back to sleep now.”

“But - now I won’t be able to. At least, not that easily. I’ll be thinking about you too much,” Blaine said, grinning impishly.

“Oh yeah? Is there something I can do to help you sleep?” Kurt raised an eyebrow suggestively, and Blaine emitted a soft moan, closing his eyes for a brief moment. It was then that Kurt realized he could only see Blaine’s one hand, and he sat up in the bed, slightly amused that Blaine had apparently gotten a head start.

“Well...” Blaine began. He shifted in the bed and looked guiltily at Kurt.

“Are you touching yourself, Blaine?” Kurt asked, feeling a flush rising to his face.

“I might be. God, Kurt. I know it’s only been a few days, but it’s been really hard. I didn’t want to tell you, but I haven’t been able to sleep right without you next to me,” Blaine admitted. He looked down at the keyboard and away from Kurt.

Kurt shifted on the bed. “It’s been three years, and you can still make me blush, Blaine Anderson.”

“I want to pretend you’re here with me.” Blaine closed his eyes.

“I am - I’m there with you,” Kurt said softly. Blaine laid back on the bed and turned on his side so he was still facing the screen. Kurt played along, but he was too physically exhausted to indulge.

“Yeah...”

“Relax, Blaine. I’m behind you, pressed up against your back...my hand is wrapped around your cock, and...I’m kissing your neck,” Kurt said just above a whisper.

“Oh,” Blaine moaned.

“Now I’m running my fingers across your chest, over your nipples...” Kurt continued. “You’re so hard for me, Blaine.”

“F-fuck.”

“God, I love when I have you like this,” Kurt said.

“Faster, Kurt,” Blaine breathed.

Kurt watched Blaine for a few more moments as he stroked himself and came completely apart, shuddering as he bit back a loud moan. Then Blaine opened his eyes again, but his eyelids hung heavily. He grinned at Kurt through the screen.

“I love you,” Kurt cooed.

“I love you too,” Blaine responded through a yawn.

Kurt giggled. “Goodnight, Blaine. Get some sleep now.”

“Goodnight, babe.”

Kurt pressed his finger to the end call button on the screen and sighed as he set the tablet aside and leaned back, sinking into the bed. He shivered from the air conditioning and then pulled the covers up over himself.

-s-

Fresh from the shower, a towel-clad Kurt cranked open the window, and the heat from outside licked at the cool beads of moisture on his skin. He squinted as he looked out across the way. Placing his palm against the glass, Kurt lifted his phone off the desk with his free hand and checked his weather app. This was certainly going to be a sunscreen, sunglasses, and shorts kind of day, he thought.

As he dressed and readied himself, he wondered what the challenge could entail if they were going to the beach. Blaine had been the one inspired by bodies of water, not Kurt, but he reminded himself again that he wasn’t the one designing. It was going to be difficult to get into the mindset of being a mentor, and he had a feeling it was would be tense and a tad bit claustrophobic sitting in that lounge with the other two challenge after challenge.

But he closed the window, gathered himself and his belongings, and left the hotel room. He felt a wave of excitement wash over him as he waited for the elevator. When it finally chirped its arrival, he climbed in and pressed the button for the lobby.


	4. À LA Mode

Sweet. Ice cream. Twenty-four bizarre but sinfully delicious sounding flavors made fresh on the premises. And Kurt was really hoping that he could sample a few - if not all.

He felt like a traitor when he finally held a cup of it in his hands and tasted it. His taste buds exploded, and he closed his eyes, allowing the cold, creamy, sugary goodness to melt on his tongue. There was an ice cream shop under the Brooklyn Bridge that he and Blaine had discovered and decided was their new favorite place in the city - the milkshakes were divine - , but with each spoonful, he realized that LA was turning him.

The challenge required the designers to pick a flavor supplied by the little ice cream shop by the beach and create a design based on it. Kurt approached his designers who had taken over a bench by the walk. As they sat sketching, he figured it was his time to step in and see how he could help guide them.

With a cup of nearly devoured chocolate, marshmallow, and bacon ice cream in one hand, Ruby was sketching furiously, and Kurt didn’t want to interrupt her creative process, so he moved on to Sam who seemed a little less sure of himself.

“Hey,” Kurt began, and Sam looked up. “What have you got so far?”

“I really want to play with the colors, so I was thinking about this short, flowy dress with this detail here,” Sam tapped his pencil on the page, pointing out a spot where the fabric seemed to be draped, “and a few here to imitate the toppings.” His shoulders slumped as he looked at Kurt. Kurt didn’t understand why the kid seemed so unsure of himself. His construction could use some work, but he had good ideas.

”I think you have something good here, Sam. It has a lot of potential,” Kurt said, studying the color palette, browns for the chocolate, whites and creams for the vanilla, and shades of pink for the fresh strawberry sauce that was drizzled on top of Sam’s sundae of choice.

“Thanks. I just need to get to Mood and sorta feel it out, ya know?”

Kurt nodded. “Yeah. Just try to stay focused.” Sam nodded in reply, adjusted his glasses, and then went back to sketching.

Kurt moved down the line to where Marco was seated, spooning the last bit of salted fudge ice cream with caramel into his mouth.

“Oh, Kurt,” he began, “how do you feel about this?” He pointed to the collar of the shirt in his sketch.

“Is that -?” Kurt squinted, trying to make out what he thought might be a hood.

“It’s a hood.”

Of course, Kurt thought. “Can I make a suggestion?”

“Sure,” Marco said.

“Don’t. I mean, the rest of your sketch is intriguing, but adding a hood is just too much. It doesn’t look right to me,” Kurt said, figuring that honesty would give him the best chance of winning.

“Alright. I’ll make some changes,” Marco responded. “Thank you.”

“Did you need any help, Viola?” Kurt asked. She always seemed like she was in another world, but while she sat designing, she looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She was the designer he hadn’t expected to get, and he still wasn’t sure how to handle her.

“I’m making a three-piece suit to represent the three parts of the rainbow sherbet,” she explained. “That’s my favorite. And I know it’s ambitious, but I got the idea and now I can’t get it out of my head.”

Kurt swallowed hard. “That’s fine. Just do yourself a favor and don’t over complicate it. You only have a day to complete this challenge, and losing you in the beginning would suck,” he said bluntly.

“I promise, I’ll do my best,” Viola said, placing her hand over her heart. “I don’t want to let you down.”

Kurt stepped back, took a deep breath, and finally approached Ruby who seemed to be making final tweaks to her sketch. He made his way over to her and sat down beside her on the bench. She looked up with a grin and moved a piece of hair from out of her face, tucking it behind her ear.

“So, I came up with this.” She held up the sketch, and Kurt’s eyes grew wide.

“Wow, um, i-it’s,” he stuttered. “Breathtaking.” It was just a sketch, but Kurt was seriously blown away by Ruby. Beginning with the collar of the jacket, Kurt’s eyes scanned the sketch, shifting rapidly from one detail to the next, the colors and design directing the eye in the most aesthetically pleasing way. If it hadn’t been designed for a woman, Kurt would wear it in a heartbeat, not that that had stopped him in the past with fashion choices.

“Oh god I’m so glad you think so. I was so worried.”

“Don’t be. Ever. Always go with your gut. I have no criticism for your work. I completely trust you with the execution on this one,” he said.

She was too humble for her own good, he thought. Kurt didn’t believe that he had to look out for Ruby, but he hoped that by the end of the competition, and she _would_ make it to the end, she would recognize the extent of her talent and gain the confidence she deserved to have.

-s-

It was strange being on the other side of the wall. Kurt saw more of Isaac and Amanda than any of the designers. And not being in the workroom was difficult for him because Kurt needed to be hands-on. His fingers moved on their own accord, drumming against his leg. He wondered if this was how it felt to be the boss. He was, the boss that is, but he couldn’t imagine getting so big that he no longer had any part in executing his own designs. That just wasn’t him.

Tim Gunn entered the lounge. “Are you guys ready to visit the workroom?”

“You have no idea,” Kurt said, rising from the couch.

Amanda laughed. “He’s been twitching like a fiend. Just let him touch fabric already.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes at her. Isaac sighed - or yawned...Kurt couldn’t tell. But it became apparent that Isaac wanted nothing to do with Amanda either.

Accompanied by Tim Gunn for moral support and general guidance, Kurt made his way around the room to meet with his mentees.

Marco’s look was really coming along. He ended up choosing to do a casual blazer over a skinny pant, and Kurt had very few criticisms. When he moved on to Ruby, his eyes lit up. Seeing her design come to life like it had actually gave him chills, and he walked away with a broad grin still plastered on his face. Next was Viola, and Kurt was pleasantly surprised when he saw how much she had completed in so little time. On top of that, he actually really liked her design. She just needed to focus on finishing and cleaning up the hemlines. Sam was the final designer in his lineup, and Kurt approached the half-clad dress form on which he was working.

“It’s very ready-to-wear, I think,” Kurt said, his hand at his chin as he continued to examine the look.

“Thank you,” Sam said. “It’s kinda what I was going for. Something that you might actually see someone wearing on the beach while they ate ice cream.”

“I like it. It’s simple, but it’s chic.”

“And it has pockets!” he said with a knowing nod.

“Well, in that case.” Kurt laughed. “You better get to work. You have the least complete out of the team, so just try to finish up. From this point on, just go with your gut,” Kurt said, realizing it was the second time that day he had used that phrase. He needed a better catchphrase if he aspired to be like the next Tim Gunn, he thought. He’d have to work on that.

As Kurt walked away from his designers and exited the workroom with the other mentors, he felt his chest swell with pride.

-s-

Once again, the Project Runway judges managed to completely baffle Kurt and make him question if maybe he was the one who was missing something. He really hadn’t seen any issue with Sam’s look, but there he stood in the bottom three at risk for elimination.

And with a resounding, “out”, Kurt officially lost his first mentee.

With the elimination over, Kurt stood in his hotel room, arms wrapped around himself, staring out the window in attempt to clear his head. Old habits die hard, he thought. Knowing that he had already lost a designer was a hit to his ego. He had believed in all of them, but perhaps his judgment was flawed. He had to keep reminding himself that this was Project Runway, after all. Sometimes the judges’ decisions seemed completely illogical.

The hotel room suddenly felt too small, and he couldn’t stay inside any longer. The slight breeze through the window wasn’t enough, and he needed fresh air. When he felt this way at home, he would take a stroll around the block or walk down to the bakery on the corner to calm his nerves. It was still early enough, and the sun hadn’t set yet. So he stepped out.

How he found himself at the water again, he had no idea. He had been keen to hop buses around town, but after about an hour, he was in Santa Monica, taking in the view of the Pacific Ocean, the palm trees swaying in the warm breeze. The sun was just about to dip over the horizon and sink, bringing on night.

At that moment, the words of a song he was quite fond of came to mind. Kurt Hummel couldn’t stay cooped up, “looking out of the window, staying out of the sun...” This was freedom.

As he watched the sunset, Kurt pulled his phone out of his pocket, wanting nothing but to hear Blaine’s voice. He needed to vent, but right now he felt serene and knew that Blaine would only soothe him further.

He began to walk toward the water as the phone rang through, absentmindedly making his way to the pier. Then Blaine picked up.

“Kurt,” he said upon answering, and Kurt could hear a smile in his voice.

“Hey there,” Kurt said quietly.

“How did the first real challenge go? It was today, right?”

“Yeah. It was okay, but -”

“But what? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, but one of my mentees already got eliminated.”

“I’m so sorry, babe. That isn’t - you know you had no control over it,” Blaine said.

“Yes and no. Just because I had no direct control over the situation and the decision doesn’t mean I don’t feel responsible. I really believed he had a good design. I didn’t give him any suggestions, just told him to go with his gut, and, well...”

“It happens, Kurt. It’s only the beginning, and I know you’re amazing. You’ve got this. I believe in you.”

Kurt chuckled. “You’re biased,” he joked. “I think there would be a problem if my husband didn’t believe in me.”

“C’mon, Kurt. Don’t be like that,” Blaine said.

“I’m sorry. I know. I am awesome at what I do. I guess it was just a bit of bad luck early in the game. Just doesn’t help morale any, but I’ve picked myself back up from worse.”

There was a brief moment of silence and then a sigh on Blaine’s end.

“Don’t overthink it too much,” Blaine said.

“I try not to. Talking to you really does make everything better,” Kurt said.

“I’m proud of you, Kurt. Remember that it’s just a competition. It doesn’t make or break who you are.”

“Thank you, Blaine.” Kurt gripped the cool metal of the railing with his free hand and leaned forward.

“Where are you by the way? There’s a lot of noise in the background.”

“I’m on the pier in Santa Monica. It’s lovely out here. The ocean is just so...peaceful. I would say romantic, but it just feels lonely without you here by my side,” Kurt said.

“I think it’s so crazy that you’re on the opposite end of the continent. I always wondered if the Pacific Ocean was any more magnificent than the Atlantic,” Blaine said.

“It might just have to do with the unfamiliarity of it, but there’s definitely something magical about  how the sunset reflects off the water,” Kurt said, his eyes watching the waves roll in and then retreat. He could hear the gentle roar of the water beneath the pier as it slapped against the sturdy columns holding up the walkway.

“I can imagine,” Blaine said softly.

“I wish you didn’t have to. Believe me, I could go on and on about missing you and wishing you were here like the cliche of a homesick man separated from the love of his life, but that won’t change the situation. And at least the situation is a good one and very temporary.”

“I know I already said it, but I’m so proud of you, Kurt.”

Kurt took a deep breath, closing his eyes and breathing in the salty sea breeze, and then exhaled.

“Me too. And I’ve never been happier than I am knowing that you’ll always be there to welcome me home.”


	5. Tyler

Blaine hadn’t realized that, despite the fact Tyler had been working for them for over a year now, he really didn’t know that much about the guy, except that he was young and very easy on the eyes. Maybe he had subconsciously decided that he didn’t want to know - he was Kurt’s personal assistant after all - and he had on various occasions felt a little stab of jealousy when he saw how they got along with each other. Now with Kurt gone, he had no choice but to interact with him, and, since he was feeling a bit cut off and lonely, Blaine thought now was a better time than ever to make an effort.

While making the rounds and checking up on everyone, Blaine spotted Tyler at his desk looking over spreadsheets. When he walked toward the desk, Tyler looked up and grinned.

“Hey, Mr. Anderson,” he said. He rose from his seat, seemingly out of respect.

Blaine laughed; he couldn’t help himself. “What’s with the formality?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know - I just - it’s just that this is the first time you’ve ever really come to talk to me. Usually it’s just Kurt.”

“Yeah, no, I understand. But, you can call me Blaine.”

“Okay. Did you need something...Blaine? I can finish this later,” Tyler said, automatically sliding the papers he’d been working from into a folder and to the side of the desk.

“Yeah, I think...I need you to go pick up lunch. For two,” Blaine added. “And then I’m going to need you to take your lunch and meet me in the break room.”

“Oh - okay.” Tyler began to get up, but he looked uneasy.

“It’s nothing to be worried about,” Blaine assured him. “It’s like you said, I just realized that I haven’t taken the time to get to know you. I can’t have that while you’re working for us. Especially since you work so hard and help us out so much. Makes me feel like a jerk.”

Tyler laughed. “Alright. So, what will it be then for lunch?”

“The choice is yours. I’m not picky. But hurry back, please, because I’m starving.”

“Will do, Blaine.” And he left the office and hurried out along the street.

Blaine finished checking in on a few of the others before making his way to the break room and making himself comfortable. He poured himself a cup of coffee and settled down at his usual table in the corner by the window. He sipped the steaming beverage as he looked out through the glass, not actually focusing on anything, before turning his head back toward the room.

About twenty minutes later, the door swung open, and Tyler entered with two paper bags filled with takeout containers. Blaine’s eyes widened at the amount of food, and he wondered who exactly was going to eat all that.

“Sushi,” Tyler said, setting the bags down on the table. “It’s my favorite.”

“Good to know,” Blaine said. He gestured for Tyler to sit.

They unpacked the food in silence, and Blaine struggled with how to begin. He didn’t want to make it awkward. In fact, his intention was to make things less awkward between them. Tyler kept his eyes downcast, moving the now open containers around the table.  

“So you’re only twenty?” Blaine asked.

“Yeah. Still in college. But I’ll be twenty-one next month, and I’m graduating this May.”

“FIT, right?”

“Yep. I like to design, but I’m more interested in the business aspect of the fashion industry. I’m an Advertising and Marketing Communications major. I’m better with my brain than I am with my hands.” Then Tyler pulled a face when he realized what he’d said.

Blaine decided to pretend he hadn’t heard to save him from embarrassment. “So, you go to Kurt’s alma mater. It’s no wonder he likes you so much. Merit is me, I guess,” Blaine laughed to himself.

“Yeah, I guess so. We kinda bonded over that. Kurt told me that you didn’t go to school.”

“I didn’t - not for fashion, anyway,” Blaine said. He grabbed a piece of sushi, dipped it in the soy sauce, and popped it into his mouth.

“But you’re so talented. I - I love your work. Do you think you’ll ever design menswear again?”

“Thank you. I’m surprised you knew about that, and I’m flattered. Um, I’m not sure. I suppose it could be one of the next steps in the development of our label.”

“I think it would be a wise move - I’ve already thought about how to introduce and promote it, and I’ve even reinvented the logo - oh, shit. I’m being too bold, aren’t I.” Tyler looked down at the table.

Blaine was taken aback. “Whoa. I mean, wow. No, that’s amazing. You remind me so much of Kurt right now. Ambitious, yes, but it doesn’t hurt to have passionate individuals on our team.”

“I could show you what I came up with one day,” Tyler said, hopeful.

“Maybe. When Kurt is home, since we both like to be involved with all big decisions.”

Tyler’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, Mr. - Blaine. Thank you so much!”

“No, thank _you_ ,” Blaine said, “and please pass me those dragon rolls, because they look delicious.” He pointed with his chopsticks, and with a “yes, sir” and a laugh, Tyler slid the container across the tabletop.

After much small talk, a few bad jokes on Blaine’s end, a small wasabi incident, and some laughter, they finished their lunch, and Blaine parted ways with Tyler, leaving him to finish up his work for the day.

-s-

Breaking the ice with Tyler felt really good, but as soon as Blaine closed up shop, made his way home, and threw himself down on the couch in front of the television, he realized that he needed a hobby. Without Kurt, it was too quiet in the apartment, and Blaine shamefully found himself sitting on his ass all day when he was home, hoping time would just speed up. It never did, and on his days off, it was even worse: he simply sat in bed and turned the television on in the room, often falling back asleep to reruns of Full House.

So it was decided that day that he would do something about it. Blaine threw on some workout clothes and headed to the gym in their building. However, about ten minutes in, he was already bored out of his skull. He felt like a hamster running on a wheel, and he wondered how and why people did this every day.

But it soon occurred to him that there was a much better way to remain active and still have fun. With a relatively quick search and phone call, Blaine signed up for a dance class and was invited to come in the same day to become acquainted with the location and the instructors. Still in his sweats, he locked up and headed out to the studio, eager to recapture a little piece of his past and to learn some new moves in the process.

-s-

When Blaine returned home later in the evening, he almost cheered when he glanced at the clock and saw that it was late enough to call Kurt. He was still so intrigued by what had happened during the day with Tyler, that he wanted to find out if Kurt was already aware of it all.

“No. That’s crazy. I knew what he was studying, but I had no idea how involved or interested he was in our affairs.” Kurt paused. “I’m just boggled over why he decided to tell you and not me.”

“Maybe you intimidate him. You can be intimidating at times,” Blaine said matter-of-factly.

“But - he and I get along so well that I would never have thought that. He’s about to graduate too,” Kurt said.

“He told me. I think it’s great that we ended up with a PA who knows PR, don’t you think, Kurt?”

“Definitely. And, who knows, maybe we can bring him on the team when the opportunity arises. It may be necessary if the business continues to grow like it has been.” Kurt let out a deep breath. “I’m happy you two are bonding.”

“I just figured it might be a good idea, ya know? And I was pleasantly surprised.”

“Well, don’t get _too_ attached to my PA, Blaine,” Kurt teased. “I’m going to want him back when I return.”

“You have nothing to worry about. I promise.”

“I know. Tell him I said hi,” Kurt said. “I have to go now, though. My break is just about up.”

“Oh, sorry,” Blaine said, glancing at the clock on the stove.

“It’s okay. They’re filming a few interviews before we wrap for the day, so I gotta get back out there.”

“And I’m exhausted, so I’ll have to say goodnight,” Blaine said.

“Goodnight, Blaine.”

“Goodnight.”

 -s-

The dance studio was situated near Prospect Park, a quick subway ride away from the apartment, and Blaine took great care to dress comfortably and accordingly for his first dance class, remembering many a grueling dance practice back in high school. Show choir was no joke, but he felt rusty after so many years, having only danced last at the club and with Kurt on their wedding day. The class he had signed up for was a fusion of jazz and hip hop, and, although he had past experience, Blaine was still worried that he might make an ass of himself.

Once he made it through the initial stretches, Blaine was feeling lithe and ready to get back into the swing of things. The first few steps were basic, and he got them down easily, realizing just how much his muscle memory had retained. The instructor seemed to take notice of Blaine and even praised him for doing so well on the first day.

He left the studio feeling exhausted but at the same time energized. Just getting in there and moving like that again rejuvenated Blaine, and he could feel the endorphins coursing through him, adding a slight skip to his step.

He was humming a tune of a song he had heard recently up until he got to his apartment, and, once inside, he broke out into a full-on belt, a one-man rendition of Story of My Life. When Blaine sang the final line of the last chorus, he laughed softly to himself, shaking his head as he sat down on his bed and removed his clothing from the day. After a quick shower, he was ready to collapse into bed and sleep for hours.

One Direction was a fairly recent obsession of Kurt’s and also his music of choice to dance around and sing along to while cooking or cleaning. Blaine laid back, closing his eyes, and imagined Kurt in his skinny jeans, undershirt, and socks, shimmying his hips around and sliding across the kitchen tile or hardwood. That’s when Blaine would come up behind him, joining in, harmonizing, and place his hands on Kurt’s waist to dance along with him.

He let out a heavy sigh and opened his eyes, fixing his gaze on the ceiling.

Blaine’s heart ached a bit as he laid there, thinking about when the next time would be when he’d be able to do that again with Kurt. Then he couldn’t help but think about how Kurt hadn’t called him at all today. It was unusual, but he wouldn’t hold it against him. He had received one picture message earlier in the day from a proud Kurt showing off a new accessory, but, after that, nothing.

Blaine rolled over in the bed and grabbed up his laptop from the nightstand where he kept it open and on these days, just in case Kurt decided to Skype him. He clicked open his web browser, checked a few things, and then opened up a new tab to check his Twitter.

Through a lengthy yawn, Blaine typed:

* * *

@emBarKurt: “You may be my lucky star

But I'm the luckiest by far.” #missyou

* * *

Then he closed the laptop and set it aside, allowing the room to be completely engulfed in darkness.

And when his phone dinged with a push notification, Blaine was already sound asleep, curled up on his side, his arms wrapped around and nose nuzzled into Kurt’s pillow.


	6. Filed Away and Forgotten

“Just a minute,” Kurt called out after hearing five successive raps on his hotel room door.

He pulled on a t-shirt before grabbing the handle, sliding open the deadbolt, and pulling open the door. It was early still, and he hadn’t had the chance to hop in the shower yet. Kurt couldn't imagine who could possibly be calling at this hour. But, through bleary eyes, he saw someone on the other side he never would have expected to see at his door. Like, ever.

“Good morning, Kurt,” Isaac said. “I’m sorry I came here so early.”

“But - why are you here? How did you even know which room I was in?” Kurt asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow.

“I asked at the desk, and they told me -”

“Great,” Kurt mumbled. He felt incredibly safe now that he knew anyone, friend or psycho, could come waltzing up to his hotel room, courtesy of inept Courtesy.

“And I wanted to catch you before you left for the day for production,” Isaac said.

“What could be so important that you needed to talk to me before I've had my coffee?” Kurt grumbled.

“Coffee,” Isaac said simply. Then a grin broke across his face.

“Wha -?”

“Coffee, Kurt. Do you want to grab some coffee and maybe a light breakfast with me?”

Kurt narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to psych me out or something?”

Isaac laughed. “No. It’s just that - I haven’t seen you in years. Not since Project Runway...not since FIT...I thought we could catch up?”

“You act as though we have a history,” Kurt said.

“Well,” Isaac began, shrugging. “Is that a yes?”

“I don’t know. Give me about an hour to make myself look human again, and I’ll let you know.”

“I’ll be down in the lobby. I’ll wait.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. Coffee is serious business. I’ll wait.” Isaac smiled again, and Kurt couldn't help but return it before rolling his eyes and closing the door.

-s-

Kurt had made a conscious effort to shut out much of his life before Blaine, especially his college years and those that followed. More specifically, he tried to shut out all the memories of hookups and almost-but-never-would-be-boyfriends, because it wasn’t a time in his life that he was proud of. His self-esteem was still naught after high school, and he had never actually felt close to any of the guys he was involved with. It wasn’t a number so large that he couldn’t count on one hand, and Blaine knew. They had had that conversation when they first started getting serious, but Kurt had never mentioned any names. It hadn’t been important.

“Kurt,” Isaac said, stirring him from his musings. “You need to actually drink the coffee to feel the full effect.”

“Of course. How could I be so stupid,” he said sarcastically. Kurt lifted the stirrer out of the coffee, brought the steaming cup to his mouth, blew lightly on the surface of the dark liquid, and then took a sip.

“Feel any better?” Isaac asked as Kurt set the cup down.

“Much better. Now, are you going to tell me why you brought me here under false pretenses?” Kurt asked. “I know better.”

“What? I didn't lie to you, I just never told you the reason why in the first place -”

“Yeah, well, in case you haven’t noticed, there’s a ring on my finger, and I am in love with that man, so don’t get the wrong idea,” Kurt said. “This is _just_ coffee.”

Isaac laughed. “You've changed.”

“What a statement.” Of course he had changed, Kurt thought, and thank god he had.

“You used to be so angry and so -” Isaac seemed like he couldn't find the word he had wanted to say.

“Easy? Young? Naïve?” Kurt scoffed, offering him a few. “Please, don’t act like you know me. What happened between us was a one time thing, and I regret every second of it.”

“Wow. Thanks. You get right to the point, don’t you.”

“No problem.” Kurt stirred the latte again before taking another sip. “What would be the purpose of beating around the bush? You said you didn't want any weirdness between us, so I’m going to be straightforward.”

It was silent for a moment, and then Isaac shook his head. “It’s been years, Kurt. You’re not a student anymore, and I’m not a professor.”

“I know. You won Project Runway, and you made it in the industry. I wouldn't have gone back to teach either if I had been in your place,” Kurt said.

“I don’t know. I would probably go back to teach at FIT if they asked me to,” Isaac said. He took a few sips of his coffee, peering over the brim of the cup at Kurt.

“Maybe you shouldn't,” Kurt said bitterly, but then caught himself. “I mean, seriously, what are the chances that I’m once again put into a situation where I’m up against you in one way or another?”

“Oh, a joke.” Isaac smirked.

“I _am_ a man of many talents,” Kurt continued to jest.

“I know. I remember...” Isaac’s eyes glazed over but the smirk remained on his face as he watched Kurt from across the table.

Kurt squirmed in his seat, feeling uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going in, and he thought quickly to change the subject. “So, it’s crazy how we’re mentors now. I’m having such a hard time adjusting to being on the other side of the design process, but, despite my initial hit, I really do feel good about this competition.”

Isaac shifted in his seat, his attention restored. “Third time’s a charm?”

Kurt laughed. “Yeah, maybe.” He paused to take a long drink of his coffee. “Admittedly, it would be easier if my competition was anyone other than you. I’m not exactly fond of being reminded of my mistakes and failures.”

“Listen. I meant what I said before. I respect you, and I’m not trying to stir up trouble while I’m here.”

“Then what exactly were you hoping to get out of this shared coffee?” Kurt asked.

“Just some time. With you. And coffee,” Isaac said.

Kurt laughed. “Well, thanks for the coffee.”

“Anytime.” Isaac sighed. He looked down at the table, and then his eyes traveled along to rest on Kurt’s ring. “So...you went and got married. Is it true that it was the guy from All Stars?”

“Yes. Blaine Anderson.”

“You must have a thing for your competition. Could have been me.”

“No,” Kurt started. He groaned in frustration, but then calmed himself down. “Honestly, Isaac, you don’t know anything about me. And there was never anything between us. What did happen was inappropriate, and it’s in the past.”

“Calm down, it was just a joke. I’m happy for you.”

Kurt wasn’t convinced and was feeling irritable now, so he pulled his phone out to check the time. “We need to get out of here if we want to be on time for filming.”

“Oh, yes. Then we better go.” Isaac rose from his chair, and Kurt followed suit, happy to be ending this conversation between them.

-s-

An enormous office supply store was the last place Kurt had expected to spend his day, but he had to admit that it called for a very interesting unconventional challenge, and he was excited to see what the designers would come up with.

Kurt tried his best to avoid Isaac for the rest of the day because he needed some space and some time to cool off from earlier. For someone who had claimed to want to avoid drama, Isaac was doing a terrible job. Kurt just wished he hadn’t let Isaac get under his skin, but he had, and now Kurt was reliving parts of his past in his mind.

Kurt had flown through his courses at The Fashion Institute of Technology, fast and furiously. While he was meticulous with his workmanship and everything he completed and presented for the grade, he was reckless with whom he decided to keep company. All it had taken was a few flirty comments from a charming young professor after class one day, and Kurt bit. He liked the attention. It was something new to him, being the object of someone’s desires, someone he could actually feel the same way about.

Isaac had been the one to drop him a line about the Project Runway auditions, and Kurt swiftly threw his portfolio together and scheduled his interview. When he was accepted, he knew he didn't owe anything to Isaac, but Kurt certainly had been in a different place in his life then. After months of teasing and blatantly playing coy, Kurt and Isaac went out for drinks to celebrate both making the show. Kurt proceeded to make himself emotionally and mentally numb with alcohol, and they went back to Isaac’s where one thing led to another. It wasn’t something Kurt even remembered much of, and he was grateful that he hadn’t. Even though he wanted Isaac, he was still one of his professors. That, coupled with a night of drunken sex, was not how he wanted to start a relationship. He had just enough self-respect to never allow it to happen again.

Luckily, by the time the mentors made it back to the lounge, Kurt had managed to shake most of it off so that he could once again focus his full attention where it was needed, on the competition and on his mentees.

The first thing to catch Kurt’s eye in the work room was metal. So much metal. And when he realized it was on Viola’s dress form and table, he felt slightly panicked. There were binder clips, spring clips, metal mesh organizers, some things Kurt couldn’t identify, and even some padlocks for which he couldn’t imagine her plans.

Ruby was breaking colorful transparent plastic rulers apart and laying them down on muslin in a mosaic of sorts. The color palette was quite lovely, Kurt thought, but he wondered how it would look in the end and whether or not Ruby would have enough time to finish.

Marco was tearing apart a leather desk chair, carefully pulling out the seams as Kurt watched. Kurt had two main concerns: leather is difficult to work with if one doesn't have much practice, and this was the unconventional challenge during which using conventional materials was generally frowned upon. Everyone knew that, so he wondered why Marco had opted to approach it in this way. All Kurt wanted was to find out that there was some sort of twist to his thinking.

“So, you’re using the leather from the chair?” Kurt asked. “Did you spend your entire budget on the two you bought?”

“No, not at all. I bought some other stuff,” Marco pointed to his bag on the floor which Kurt tried to peer into. “I am using the leather. In fact, I’m using the entire chair.”

“That’s going to be interesting to see. I’m guessing it’s not going to look quite like the sketch you presented to me earlier.”

“I did need to change things up a bit after I got my materials,” Marco admitted.

“The only thing I’m concerned about is the leather, working with it, that is,” Kurt said.

“Don’t worry. I spent an entire semester doing leather work, and I’ve got quite a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“I’ll just have to trust you,” Kurt said. “And I do. Just try to use the other things you bought, too, because the judges will not want to see fabric on the runway. Not this much, anyway.”

“I know. Thank you, Kurt.”

When he was finished visiting all his mentees, Kurt looked back over at them one last time, scanning the room, table to dress form to table to dress form, and suddenly it hit him that the place looked like some weird S&M den with all the metal and the leather and the tools the designers were using to break down objects. He shivered but then let out a brief chuckle on his way out and back to the lounge.

-s-

Kurt’s thumbs danced across the screen of the phone as he tapped out a message and hit send:

_hey there, cutie. how is my husband today?_

He rolled over onto his back in the bed, pulling the blanket up over himself, snuggling in and getting comfortable in anticipation of a response. His phone dinged no more than a minute later.

**_idk. how is he?_ **

_haha. very funny. :p_

_**I am, but don’t have much energy to talk. was out all night working out and I’m tired** _

_you? working out?_

_**yeah.** _

_who are you? it’s like I don’t even know you. you are not my husband._

_**you texted me. where’d you get my number?** _

_I bought it off this sketchy guy on the street. told me I could call it for a good time._

_**or text it?** _

_yep ;)_

**_didn't_ ** _**you learn from Seymour Krelborn’s mistakes not to buy things off strange people on the street?** _

_as long as you promise not to suck my blood, then I think we’ll be okay_

_**I have been known to like how you taste ;)** _

_I’ll feed you as long as you promise not to devour all my loved ones_

_**see? we learn so much from musicals.** _

_we’re just dorks. you more than me :D_

Kurt sat there staring at the phone waiting for a response, confused why Blaine wasn’t as quick. It took a few minutes for him to respond, but the conversation picked right back up.

_**probably. but it works for us** _

_sure does...what prompted you to go work out btw?_

His phone didn't ding again with a message for a good five minutes. So he texted:

_..._

Again, no response.

_Blaine?_

Kurt set the phone down once he was certain he wasn’t going to get a reply. It wasn’t as if Blaine hadn’t warned him that he could fall asleep any second, and it was apparent that he had done just that. 

-s-

The presentation of the garments from the unconventional challenge was exciting to see, and Kurt felt a surge of pride at seeing his mentees’ final looks. And, while the deliberation was stressful, Kurt was overwhelmingly happy that he didn't lose a member of his team this time. They had the next day off from filming, and Kurt was grateful to be able to spend some time getting back into the right headspace and to clear out all the debris left behind by hurricane Isaac.


	7. Formalities

Kurt never got to attend any dances while he was in high school. He never got to dress up to the nines, hang on the arm of a handsome, debonair gentleman, and be proudly shown off to his family and friends while they embarrassed him and took way too many pictures, most of which would turn out to be unflattering. It was probably one of the reasons he took his wedding so seriously, why he went all out and made sure that it was every bit as special as any fantasy he ever had about romance and dancing and falling in love. He was like Cinderella finally getting to go to the ball after her invitation was lost in the mail several times, and Blaine was his perfect Prince Charming, with whom he was glad the celebration didn't end at midnight. And never would.

No, Kurt didn't experience his teenage years like any normal boy was meant to, how the films, books, and television shows promised him it would be like. Because he wasn’t normal, didn't fit any mold or live up to the ideals of others. But he was okay with that. Because, even though life took him for a bumpy ride and wrecked him somewhere along the way, Kurt felt like a much better and stronger person for it. He felt as if he truly understood just how valuable life was and the value of having people around him who loved and supported him with whom he could share it.

So when he saw the models for this particular challenge enter the workroom to meet his mentees, all young, wide-eyed high school girls preparing to attend their winter formal, wanting every bit as much a part of the fantasy and the magic as he had wanted, Kurt knew that he couldn't possibly allow his team to let them down. They were underprivileged girls from towns all over the state, chosen especially to have custom gowns made for their big nights, so they could feel normal, proud, and beautiful, and Kurt wanted them to have all that and more. He wished he could personally dress all of them, and it was killing him that he had to once again stand back and be not much more than a cheerleader.

Kurt was acutely aware that his guidance would be crucial today due to the nature of this challenge. It would be doubly challenging for his mentees to not only design for a nontraditional model but to design for a client, the age of whom made it even trickier.

“I really like your bag.”

Kurt wasn’t sure of the source of the compliment at first, and he pivoted around, searching.

“Marc Jacobs, right?” Marco said. “It really is a nice messenger bag. I bet it’s durable, too.”

Kurt felt a blush begin to creep up his neck and into his ears, and he found himself grinning bashfully and staring down at the bag, running his fingertips across the dark, pebbled leather. “Yeah. I love it. My husband bought it for me.”

“He’s a very smart man with a very keen eye for fashion,” Marco said.

“You have no idea,” Kurt said, still grinning. “Or maybe you do. Blaine Anderson, my husband, he was very much a part of the Project Runway world as well.”

“Blaine! Yes! You competed against each other on All Stars, right? That must have been weird.”

Kurt laughed. “We weren't together while we were competing on the show - well, we got together during it. Sorta. It’s a little complicated, but, yeah. He’s very talented and impresses me every day. Just when you think you know everything about him, that you’ve learned all his secrets, he surprises you. And that’s what I love about him.”

“My girlfriend, I've been with her for five years now, I feel that way about her too.”

“It’s hard to be away from them, isn't it?” Kurt asked. “I don’t think it’s a thing I could ever get used to.”

“It’s hard, but when they’re your world, they’re really with you all the time.”

“That’s really sweet, Marco. I never thought you were a big softy.”

“Love does things to a man.”

“Amen to that,” Kurt said, and they both laughed until Kurt cleared his throat, realizing they should get back on task. “Anyway, it’s time to get back to work. My advice to you is to make sure you talk to your client and pay very close attention to her wants and needs. While it’s very important to stay true to your own design aesthetic, it’s even more important to make sure your client feels comfortable, sexy - on top of the world even - in your design. Because in the end, it’s about them, not you. I’m sure you’ll do fine. If you can hold on to a woman for as long as you have, then you must know how to listen.”

“That I do,” Marco said with a grin.

Kurt’s attention was suddenly pulled elsewhere. He apologized to Marco and stepped away, heading off to the side of the room to get a better look, hoping that it wasn't what he thought. Then he saw it clearly: the familiar arm touch, the way he moved in closer as they talked, the softening of his voice, how he made a point to brush his fingers against the other person’s hand at every opportunity. Kurt felt bile rising up in his throat as he watched Isaac with his mentee, Dylan, who was only twenty-two and basking in the attention, completely unaware of Isaac’s true intentions. But Kurt knew, and he’d be damned if he let it go on. When it was time for the mentors to head back to the lounge, Kurt followed Amanda and Isaac out.

Isaac turned and took a detour down another hallway, and Kurt followed him right into the bathroom. If he wanted to confront Isaac, then this would be the ideal place to do it, off camera and away from the prying eyes and ears of others.

“Have you come in here to watch me take a piss?” Isaac said, seeing Kurt in the mirror and turning around to face him.

“How dare you,” Kurt snarled.

“Ah, you just came in here to harass me, then. What do you want?”

“Do you have some sort of teacher-student kink? Or are you just a creep?”

“Do I detect jealousy?” Isaac looked amused with himself.

“Hardly. You wish that was even remotely what this is about.” Kurt huffed and crossed his arms.

“I don’t think you have any room to judge or speak for that matter - I’m not getting into this with you. You had your chance, and you blew it.”

“You’re despicable. If you don’t stop what you’re doing, I won’t be afraid to say something.”

“Oh, so you’re going to try to get me disqualified, is that what you’re saying? Is it because that may be your only chance of ever beating me at something?” Isaac taunted.

“If I wasn’t the bigger man in this situation, I would punch you so hard, you wouldn't remember where you were. But since I won’t stoop to your level, I’m going to walk away,” Kurt fought to keep his voice steady.

“I’d be careful with what you say...someone could perceive it as a threat. Then who would be the one at risk of getting himself into trouble?”

“I’m done with you. We’re done here. If I see you acting inappropriately with anyone, I’m going straight to the producers.” Kurt turned and began to walk swiftly away, never giving Isaac a chance to respond. Even if he had, Kurt wouldn't have heard it because his blood was pounding in his ears. He was fuming because he couldn't believe any of this was actually going on.

Kurt entered the lounge and dropped heavily onto the couch, crossing his legs and arms. He began chewing on his bottom lip in his frustration.

“What’s _your_ problem?” Amanda said, glancing up from her phone.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“What, did Blaine accidentally mix your colors with your whites while doing laundry?”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You two are all domestic now, right? I just figured that you were in a tizzy about some trivial dispute that only lame old married couples get in,” she said.

“First of all, we are _not_ lame, nor are we old, and, no. This has nothing to do with Blaine. But it’s also none of your business, so I would appreciate it if you could just keep yourself from offering your two tarnished cents every time you want to hear yourself talk.”

“You know what, Hummel? You’re right. I’m just bored, and maybe I feel like the only way I can get a response out of you is if I take a dig at you. You’re always so uptight that it actually worries me sometimes.”

“I resent that statement. I am _not_ always uptight.” Kurt sighed heavily, calming himself down. “I think these competitions do something to my head, make me all -”

“Uptight,” Amanda offered.

Kurt glared at her and then rolled his eyes. “I give up.”

“No, I get it, I really do. I’m not magically immune to it. We’re all under the same stress, and I know how much it helps to have a friend here, or at least someone to talk to during all this madness.”

Kurt looked up at Amanda, tilted his head as he considered her, and then it was as if he was seeing her for the first time.

“I guess I never took the time to consider why Blaine liked you. He’s always been a good judge of character, never one to rule somebody out before giving them a chance. Maybe I could take a page out of his book.”

And then Amanda smiled such a warm, sincere smile, something Kurt had never seen on her before, and her frigid exterior seemed to have finally melted away to reveal a person, a person Kurt might actually find it possible to like.

The door opened to the lounge, and Isaac entered, cutting through the exchange between the two without acknowledging their presence. Kurt stiffened and sat up straight, his eyes following Isaac. Amanda, noticing the odd behavior, raised a quizzical eyebrow and, when she realized Kurt’s attention was compromised and she wouldn't get an explanation, went back to playing on her phone.  

Isaac poured himself some coffee and began to pick at the remainder of the snacks that had been laid out for the mentors that day, and Kurt stared at the back of his head for a moment before glancing at the clock on the wall. There were only about forty minutes left of their day, and Kurt promised himself he could get through it. Tim Gunn would be coming in to talk to them one last time before sending them on their way. Kurt’s plans for tonight included a nice long shower with the aromatherapy body wash he had bought on his day off, a cup of chamomile tea, and a much needed phone conversation with Blaine.

-s-

Kurt turned the knob on the shower, cutting off the water, grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist, and stepped out onto the cool tile. He already felt so much better and knew that a good night’s sleep would do him even more good.

When he climbed into the bed and reached for his phone from off the nightstand, he noticed that he’d missed a picture message from Blaine. He wasted no time bringing it up on the screen, but the smile he’d been wearing in response to seeing Blaine’s name dropped almost immediately. Staring back at him from the screen was a slightly scruffy-looking tan and gray dog, the background unmistakably their apartment.

Kurt’s fingers couldn't have operated that phone any quicker.

_what the hell is that?_

He waited for a few minutes but didn't receive a response to his text. He knew Blaine had to be by his phone because the message had only been sent about ten minutes prior. Then Kurt brought up his call log and hit call on the most recent contact. When the call connected, Kurt didn't even have a chance to speak before Blaine was rambling into the phone.

“I didn't know how to say no - I couldn't - they were there, and he was there, and I held him - I wish you could have seen his little face, how happy he looked -”

“Whoa, whoa, just slow down, would you?” Kurt said, bringing his hand to his forehead.

Blaine fell silent.

“Blaine...?”

“Kurt...?”

“Okay, so clearly I know the answer to my initial question, but I guess what I want to know is - _why_?”

“I was out in the city, running a few errands and grabbing lunch, when I passed some sort of event. Naturally, I was curious, and I crossed the street to check it out because there were all these dogs in the park. Well, anyway, it turns out it was Broadway Barks, you know -”

“Yes, I’m familiar,” Kurt said.

“Then I made the mistake of petting a couple of the dogs and got myself into a few conversations. They knew who I was, Kurt, and pretty soon they had me telling them all about the dog I had when I was a child.”

“Zigzag,” Kurt remembered.

“Yeah. So they thought they’d show me this one little guy, a border terrier, and, well, Kurt, I fell instantly in love. He needed a home, and there’s enough room in our apartment, so I gave him one...”

“Oh god. I bet they had a field day with you,” Kurt laughed. “Did they take a ton of pictures?”

“Yeah.”

“Congratulations, Blaine. You’re their new poster boy. I’m kidding, but seriously. Your face is going to be on their website for sure. It’s a sure-fire way to draw in more of a crowd. Slap someone familiar _and_ attractive on the brochure and - voila! Puppies get adopted.”

“You’re angry with me, aren't you,” Blaine said quietly.

Kurt sighed heavily. “Yes. A bit.” But he knew he wasn’t really mad at Blaine. Blaine just had some very bad timing.

“Here, give me just one sec...”

Kurt wasn’t sure what Blaine was doing, but then he heard the phone ding in his ear as a text message came through. He set the phone on speaker and opened the text only to reveal another picture of the dog curled up and sound asleep in a bed that Blaine had apparently purchased for him. It was in that moment that he melted. But there was no way he was admitting it to Blaine right now.

“Fine. But he’s your responsibility. And he sleeps in that bed, not in ours,” he added.

“It’ll be like having our own little Swatch -”

“Or Oscar,” Kurt offered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“He’s small and harmless, I promise, so we can bring him to the boutique. He’ll be like a little mascot, might even draw in more business,” Blaine said, trying to sway Kurt the best he could.

“Or he might just make a mess of everything,” Kurt grumbled. “I’m sorry, Blaine. I just never saw myself ever owning a dog. It’s going to take some getting used to.”

“I know I should have asked first, but he needed a home, and I wanted to surprise you...”

“To be fair, he is really cute. I’m sure he’ll grow on me. All in due time.”

“I think so too,” Blaine said. “Just wait until you meet him and see how sweet he is.”

“If he’s anything like his owner, then I will love him to death,” Kurt said, finally relaxing.

“Thank you, Kurt. For not freaking out on me,” Blaine said.

“Worst case scenario is that we have to find him a better home. But I trust you, and I have a feeling that he’ll be everything you say and more. Besides, it’s better than having a kid, I think.”

“Oh - I have to go. Snarls Barkley just woke up, so I need to take him for a walk,” Blaine said suddenly.

Kurt burst into laughter, laughing so hard he snorted, then laughed again at himself. “That’s what you named him? Snarls Barkley?” he asked, catching his breath. “Why am I even surprised. No, no...I’m not surprised at all. It’s a fitting name thought up by such a _crazy_ fool.”

“I love you, Kurt,” Blaine said, and he could tell that Blaine was smiling.

“I love you too, but some surprises should be a little more well-thought-out. Remember that for the future.”

“I will. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow, Blaine. Good night.”

“Night, Kurt.”

-s-

Despite all the curveballs that had been thrown Kurt’s way the past few days, seeing the looks on the high school girls’ faces as they walked and stood happily and confidently on the runway made all the bad stuff wash away, if only for that blissful moment. Kurt even teared up when the girl in the winning look began to cry because she was so overwhelmed and happy, saying how blessed she felt and how thankful she was for what they had done for her and the other girls.

Ruby and Marco were in the top three with their designs, and Viola, who had a bit of a miscommunication with her young model-client, was still safe, but barely so. Kurt thought these girls looked elegant enough to walk a red carpet and receive all compliments from the critics. In the end, he was very proud of his team, and he would surely let them know.

Following the judging and elimination, during which Isaac lost a mentee and Kurt cheered internally, there were now nine designers left, and Kurt was still going strong with his three, and, having all lost one designer, Isaac and Amanda each had three as well. There was still a while to go in the competition, and Kurt knew that anything could happen, but he did his best to remain optimistic, because any other attitude would do him no good at all.


	8. Identity

Kurt stared into the bathroom mirror of his hotel room, squinting, his eyes focusing on the myriad of small, tan spots that dotted his skin like a sandstorm frozen in time. He ran his fingertips under his eyes and across his cheeks, stretching his skin and examining the after effects of the California sun. Usually a little bit of Color Correcting cream and sometimes a bit of cosmetic powder was enough to keep the blemishes at bay and maintain his porcelain façade. But underneath it all, it was undeniable that Kurt Hummel had inherited his mother’s freckles. And, while he often felt like they made him look like a child and did what he could to conceal them, Kurt secretly loved that he had this piece of his mother as part of himself, and perhaps hiding them was a way of keeping them just for himself.

Then he shrugged, smiled, fixed his hair, and went off to filming, his skin as natural as the day he was born. When he arrived on set, crew members were outside setting up an array of flags from countries all over the world, and he watched with interest as he sipped his morning coffee and was fixed with a body mic. Although he had never been to Epcot, he imagined this was what it looked like.

The other mentors soon arrived, and Tim Gunn greeted them as a group. By this point, they all knew the drill, so Kurt, Amanda, and Isaac were led to the front lawn for the announcement of the day’s challenge.

“Good morning, designers, mentors,” Tim Gunn said. “As you can see, we have a collection of flags of nations all over the world. These flags represent the diversity of our designers and part of something that innately makes up who you all are as individuals. For this challenge, you will draw inspiration from not only the flag but also the unique culture of your country.”

As explained, each designer was assigned a country that was part of his or her heritage. Kurt’s team had Italy, Russia, and England, and he was fascinated to find out more about parts of their identities that lay below the surface and may not be so easily known.

The flags assigned to the others included Ireland, Sweden, Haiti, Mexico, Lebanon, and Cuba. Kurt knew, had he been in their place, that they would have assigned him Ireland. If the Emerald Isle was Hogwarts, he would be as pureblood and magical as they come, and he was very proud of that aspect of himself.

Having lived in the Midwest United States during his most formidable years, his ancestry never really played an integral part in his upbringing, at least, in no notable way that he could think of. Being American was the only thing that he could really identify with. The memories of his father playing Mellencamp and Springsteen, going to parades and fireworks displays to celebrate Independence Day, and watching football or baseball curled up in his father’s lap or on the couch beside him - if only to be in his company - were among some of his fondest memories.

Suddenly Kurt had the urge to plan a tour of Europe in order to explore his roots. If things continued as they had been lately, soon, he and Blaine would be comfortable enough to begin traveling, and they were about due for a visit to the fashion capitals of the world. But all of his musings about travel only made Kurt feel lonely all over again, wishing he was home with Blaine or that Blaine was here with him.

The competition. He was here for the competition, Kurt reminded himself, and it was an important stepping stone on his way back to Blaine and toward a better future. He hadn’t yet thought about what would happen if and when he won, but, for now, he knew he had to focus, put one foot in front of the other, and follow the others out of the building because they were headed to Mood.

-s-

“Hey, little guy.” Kurt kneeled down by the white and tan chihuahua that was curled up on a pillow by the register and reached out hesitantly. Oscar lifted his short little snout to sniff at Kurt’s hand, and then his little pink tongue darted out and licked his fingers. Kurt giggled at the sensation and then pet him atop his head before scratching behind his ears.

So Blaine had gotten them their own little guy just like the one in front of him. Well, not exactly like him, but, as Kurt stared into Oscar’s large, dark, round bugged-out eyes, he found himself unable to suppress a smile.

He stood up again, pulled his phone out, and opened the picture of Barkley - a shortened version of the name Blaine had given him - and looked at the little creature’s soulful eyes. Kurt began to imagine how life would be with the little dog...perhaps he would lay curled up by their feet as they watched television at night cuddled up next to each other, or maybe Kurt would even allow Barkley on the couch to nestle between them or in one of their laps as they all dozed off, comfortable and content and together.

And he couldn't be angry at all at a face like that, just like he could never stay angry at Blaine, even if he did do some utterly ridiculous things sometimes. With the addition to their family, things were going to be different. Now Kurt couldn't wait to get home to both his babies.

When Kurt stepped away to find his mentees, Oscar let out a soft whine and then began to follow Kurt to the end of an aisle of fabric, prancing on his twiggy, little paws and legs. Then he paused and tilted his head to the side, watching Kurt, one ear standing straight up while the other drooped.

Viola was standing a short distance away down the aisle, pulling out bolts of various fabrics in shades of white, blue, and red. After talking to all of his mentees and going over preliminary sketches, they had agreed as a group that they would all follow the color schemes of their flags so that the focus could be on structure and the design itself. As luck would have it, both Viola’s and Ruby’s were red, white, and blue, but Viola was searching for prints which alarmed Kurt a bit.

Kurt began to approach her but decided that it might be best to give all of them some space for this one. It was, after all, a very personal challenge, and his interference could throw off their creative processes. Instead, he waited by the door until time was called to check out and head back to FIDM.

As soon as he was allowed in the work room though, Kurt took full advantage of his limited time with his team, beginning with Viola who already seemed busy at work on her look.

“When I think about Russian fashion, I think of Slava Zaitsev,” Viola explained to a curious Kurt. “His work is very traditional with a lot of prints and natural shapes, layers and bright colors. While there’s a certain elegant chicness to his aesthetic, there’s plenty of dramatic flair. I want to encapsulate that same drama in my look.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, do you have close ties to Russia?” Kurt asked.

“Not as much as I’d like, actually. I've only ever been there once, when I was younger. My mother was born in Russia, but I was born in America. My name doesn't even sound Russian because my mother was a musician and she named me after the instrument. The funny thing is that she’s a pianist. Maybe she was hoping I’d grow up to fill that role, to be like her, but maybe a complement to her talents. I was hopeless at music though when she put me in lessons as a child, my mind was always elsewhere. Then I somehow fell into fashion. It’s definitely a field that accepts and embraces my more unconventional ideas and methods. She wanted me to be classical, but I ended up being jazz.”

“I’ll admit, I’m not familiar with Zaitsev’s work, but I do know quite a bit about music,” Kurt said. “When I really think about it, I think Viola is very fitting for you.” Kurt looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. “You really seem to know who you are, and I’m really excited to see what you create. I’ll leave you be to work now.”

He stepped away and moved across the room to where Ruby was working, the Union Jack hung up on the wall by her workspace.

“So, you have England,” Kurt said.

“Yeah, but I’m focusing more on my more recent heritage,” she told him.

“Oh okay. I’d love to hear about your ideas,” Kurt said.

“My first name, Ruby, is a family name,” she began to explain. “I believe it was my great grandmother’s, and I was the lucky one of three sister’s to inherit it. I don’t really have any ties to England. I've never been there, and my family hasn't lived there for generations as far as I know. But since this challenge is supposed to be about who we are as individuals, why not make it more personal? I think I’m going to opt for more reds with some blue in my design, jewel-tones, of course.” She held up her fabric swatches and pinned them to the dress form.

“I like your choices. That color combination really works well,” Kurt said. “Alright, get to work,” he added with a warm smile and then continued on to his final mentee, Marco.

“Hey, Marco,” Kurt greeted. “How are you feeling about this challenge?”

“Really great, actually,” he said. “I feel good.”

“I spoke with the other two, and they had so many ideas, things that I didn't even think about, ranging from iconic designers of the same heritage to interpretations of their names. It makes me really curious to know what you've been planning,” Kurt said. “I mean, Italy. So much comes to mind when I think of Italy - so many great Italian designers - some of my favorites, actually. You've got Rome and Milan as fashion capitals as well.”

“Ah, well, I think I’ll surprise everyone then. I grew up in Philly, and I’d much rather bring in elements of the City of Brotherly Love, where my true roots are, than try to imitate some other designer or make an attempt at traditional dress. South Philly is like ‘Little Italy,’ and I feel that it’s a pretty close representation of what living in Italy might actually be like. There’s a great sense of community among neighbors, and the Italian marketplace is so authentic, it might as well have been plucked right out of Europe. Not to mention you have to be home for dinner with the entire family on Sundays. So I just want to bring the two together, since that’s basically what I am.”

“I think that’s very smart. It’s more genuine that way,” Kurt said. “I’m impressed by your resolve.”

“I’m not trying to be a rebel or anything, I just feel I do my best work when I stick to what I know best.”

“And I’m glad that you do,” Kurt said. “I loved your sketch, by the way, and I can’t wait to see it come to life.”

“Thank you,” Marco said. “I hope the judges feel the same way.”

“They will,” Kurt said, smiling. “I’m sure of it.”

-s-

The runway show was truly a spectacle, and during the judging Kurt couldn't help but wonder: how can you judge when there’s such a varied and rich display of culture represented through the lens of personal experience and design aesthetic? One thing was certain, and it was something that Kurt had always loved about the show: Project Runway was always a learning experience.

At the end of the day, he was glad his team was still intact after watching Amanda lose one of her designers. There were several interviews filmed that day that kept all of them rather late, so it was a huge relief to finally be back in the hotel room and able to settle in for the night.

Tablet in hand, Kurt climbed into bed with the intention of checking his email, but seconds after he opened his web browser, Skype popped up on his screen with an incoming call from Blaine which he answered without delay.

The call connected, and Blaine came into focus.

It took a moment for Kurt to respond to what he was seeing on his screen. He was speechless and didn't know whether to laugh or remain silent in amused curiosity.

“Howdy,” Blaine said, tipping the cowboy hat on his head and leaning back in the bed.

“Oh dear lord.” Kurt closed his eyes tight and chuckled almost silently, feeling his body shake. “You even found a red paisley bow tie, bless your soul,” he said after daring another look at the screen.

“What can I say? I have skills,” Blaine said, still putting on a persona to match his costume.

“And I’m convinced you can smell them from a mile away,” Kurt said, but he was distracted by Blaine’s bare, muscled chest and arms to really care too much about what he _was_ wearing.  

“You could call me a fashion wrangler, specializing in men’s neckwear.” Blaine winked and tugged on the sides of the bowtie. Then he reached for something by his side and held it up in front of the screen. “So you wanna -” He pulled the trigger on a toy gun, and a bright flag displaying a single word popped out. “- bang?”

Kurt swallowed and choked on his laughter. “You are absolutely ridiculous, but I must admit I am a little turned on right now.” He ran his hand over his gradually growing bulge through the fabric of his pajama pants as he watched Blaine begin to do the same.

“You know what they say, save a horse, ride a cowboy,” Blaine said.

“Did you seriously just -?”

“Yes I did, partner,” Blaine said.

“Well, I can forgive you for that, and I’d still ride you,” Kurt said.

“It wouldn't be difficult,” Blaine said, and then he shifted on the bed. “Assless chaps, see?” Blaine turned over, baring his ass for Kurt, who stared lasciviously at the screen, wishing he could reach through it.

“Leather. Hot.” And hot was exactly how Kurt felt as the blood flow to his face and lower regions increased, his cock beginning to throb.

“Must be your first time to the rodeo.”

As silly as the whole thing was, Kurt found himself getting into it surprisingly easily. He watched as Blaine poured some lube onto his fingers, slicking them up, and ran his fingertip over his hole.  Then, with a soft, sharp intake of breath, Blaine pushed one digit through his tight ring of muscle, and Kurt felt his cock pulsing and twitching at the sight. He was mesmerized as Blaine began to work himself open.

“Yeah, it is my first time. I've never ridden a bull before. I’m gonna need to hang on real _tight_ , let you guide me,” Kurt said, playing along, his hand traveling down under his waistband to grab his achingly hard, swollen cock. He hissed at the contact, pumping his fist once and reveling in the friction that he finally allowed himself.

“That can be a-ranged,” Blaine said gruffly, now grasping his own cock. He continued to thrust his finger inside himself, soon adding another to feel more full.

“Mm,” Kurt hummed. “Wordplay foreplay. I’d mount that, bareback mountain style,” Kurt moaned, his hand sliding up and then down his cock again, falling into the same rhythm as Blaine.

“You can come in my tent,” Blaine said.

“Such _tight_ quarters,” Kurt said. It was sinful the way Blaine’s fingers disappeared inside of him, and Kurt could almost feel the tight heat of Blaine around his cock, adjusting his grip just so.  

“Yeah,” Blaine breathed, his strokes speeding up, bringing himself closer to climax.

“Oh god, yes,” Kurt gasped.

Blaine’s hand flew up and down his slick cock, a soft moan accompanying every graze of the head, and Kurt pumped his own cock faster, drawing ever closer, thrusting into his fist, heat coiling in his stomach, the muscles tightening, until he had to bite back a moan as he came over his fingers and onto his belly. Kurt closed his eyes, focusing only on the pleasure of his orgasm.

“Fuck, babe, that is so hot,” Blaine groaned as he came undone himself.

Kurt slowly opened his eyes and watched as Blaine cleaned himself off, reaching over for tissues to do the same. He rolled over onto his side and brought the tablet up by his pillows, sighing before he spoke again.

“You realize I haven’t jerked off since I arrived in California, right?” Kurt said.

“What? Why not?”

“Just hadn’t felt the urge, but I didn't realize how much I needed that. You’re seriously amazing,” Kurt said. “I can’t believe you managed to turn a silly Halloween costume into something so hot.”

“I’m not sure how I even got the idea, but I saw it in the closet and thought you might like it,” Blaine said.

“Oh, I _really_ liked it. That’s the kind of surprise that you should stick to, Blaine,” Kurt said.

“Yeah...” Blaine grew quiet for a moment. “How has the competition been going? We don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want to,” he added quickly.

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s going a lot better than initially. Except for -” Kurt thought about all the Isaac drama but then shook his head, deciding that he didn't want to broach the subject at a time like this.

“Except for what?” Blaine asked.

“Nothing. I was just thinking about - I just wish I could get my hands dirty, ya know?” he lied quickly to deter Blaine’s curiosity and any further prodding.

Blaine just grinned and fixed Kurt with a suggestive look.

“Oh my god. You know what I meant.” Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed which was answered by a laugh on Blaine’s end. “This whole mentor thing is great, and it’s making me realize things about myself and others that I hadn’t before - giving me new perspective and all - but I just want to be able to sit down at my own sewing machine in my own boutique and just create something.”

“Why don’t you then?”

“Why don’t I what?”

“Make something. I don’t mean you should sit down and create an entire garment - or that you can magically teleport home - but why don’t you buy a few things on one of your days off and make something small - like an accessory or something? It’ll at least keep you occupied and help you release some of that pent-up creative energy.”

“Oh, Blaine. You make it sound so simple, like the answers to all my frustrations were in right in front of me all along,” Kurt said.

“Just doing what I can, little darlin’,” Blaine said, tipping his hat again.

Kurt laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, cowboy, I think it’s time for you hang up your saddle and hit the hay.”

After they exchanged ‘good nights’, Kurt set his tablet aside with a yawn, and burrowed himself into the bed. Pulling the big, fluffy comforter up around his shoulders, he slipped into a state of blissful slumber, the best night’s sleep he had gotten since arriving on the West Coast.


	9. Twenty-One

The rattling hum of New York City traffic brought Blaine back from a daydream as he walked along the avenue on his way to the boutique with Barkley trotting along beside him on his leash.

Getting used to Barkley in the apartment was easy, but Blaine was super conscious about how things would be when Kurt returned, so he was training the dog to stay off the furniture, out of the bedroom, and had invested in an abundance of sticky rollers to fight the onslaught of dog hair that would surely take over their apartment if he didn't take preemptive measures. It hadn’t occurred to him if perhaps there is a breed that doesn't shed, besides one of those hairless things. Kurt probably would appreciate that more, but Blaine was doing the best he could in their current situation.

He apologized after bumping into a young girl in the crosswalk, who was too taken with the dog now in his arms to be the slightest bit upset, and then quickened his pace as he approached the building. If nothing else, the cute little beast was something of a good luck charm and was quite useful for placating usually grumpy New Yorkers.

Saturdays were hit or miss with business, but today it seemed like they might be bringing in a little bit of money. There were a lot of tourists in and out of the shop, and it seemed like Tyler was answering the phone every five minutes. After running around, trying to keep things in order and customers happy, Blaine finally got a moment to breathe.

Blaine hadn’t forgotten what day it was, and he had made a point to wish Tyler a happy birthday. But the real surprise was waiting in the break room, and now that the crowd of customers had died down, Blaine gathered everyone up to come inside.

“In case you guys didn't know, Tyler is twenty-one today!” Blaine announced. “And for the occasion, I brought in cookies for everyone. I wish I could say I baked them myself, but I did get them from Kurt’s and my favorite bakery in Brooklyn.”

“Thanks, Blaine,” Tyler said, looking slightly abashed.

After a few of the others grabbed some sweets and cleared out to get back to work, Blaine pulled Tyler aside. “Listen, I know you’re not a kid and all, so I didn't mean to make you feel that way with the cookies. I’d actually like to take you out for a drink tonight, if you don’t already have plans. Twenty-one is kinda a big deal.”

“No, it’s okay, they’re delicious, but...drinks with the boss? Sounds tempting and somewhat - risky?” Tyler said.

“I understand if you don’t -”

“Uh, it’s a yes! Duh,” Tyler said with a giggle.

“Oh.” A smile spread across Blaine’s face. “Well, I can’t wait then. We can head out straight from here after work, if you want.”

“Alright. But can I run home real quick to change?” Tyler asked. “I’m going to want to wear something special for the occasion.”

“Of course,” Blaine answered.

-s-

Blaine took a sip of his third beer before setting the glass back down on the table. He looked out across the bar, scanning the crowd until he spotted Tyler again who was chatting it up with a tall, burly athletic-looking brunet. Blaine imagined the guy could easily lift Tyler in the air and throw him like a rag doll, he was that big.

After a dance, Tyler parted ways with the man and rejoined Blaine at the table.

“Ooh, he was gorgeous,” Tyler said as he plopped down into the booth. “He plays football for Columbia -”

Blaine tried to stifle a laugh by quickly drinking more, but ended up blowing bubbles in his beer.

“What’s so funny?” Tyler asked, noticing the grin on Blaine’s face.

“Nothing,” Blaine said. It was a lie - Blaine didn't have the heart to tell Tyler about his love of college football, and Columbia, well, they weren't exactly known for football. “I’m glad you’re having a good time. Go on.”

“I’m only a little tipsy...tipsy Tyler.” He broke out into a fit of giggles at his drunken alliteration. “Anywho, his name is...it’s - shit, I can’t even remember.” And they both laughed at the situation.

“You, my friend, are flagged,” Blaine said, still laughing.

“Alright, fine. No more drinks for me, but he - um - apparently there is karaoke upstairs,” Tyler said.

That piqued Blaine’s interest. “Really?” Blaine said. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

-s-

There was a knock at the door, and Blaine set his laptop aside and rose from the couch. Who could possibly be at his door on a Sunday afternoon? It was his day off, and he had been taking advantage of the fact that he could lounge around in his pajamas. And, as much as he missed Kurt, it was also a bit less important for him to make himself presentable in his absence, so he had skipped his morning shave. Needless to say, he wasn’t prepared for company and was reluctant to answer the door.

When he opened the door, the first thing he saw was a large bouquet of flowers, white lilies to be exact. Then the flowers moved out of the way to reveal a familiar young face.

“Special delivery!” Tyler handed him the card first.

“Hey, Tyler, um -” Blaine began nervously. Had he misinterpreted the gesture? “Come inside,” Blaine invited him in, because it was the polite thing to do, and then closed the door.

He swallowed hard as he turned the small envelope over in his hands before slipping a finger under the flap to open it. But when he saw the front of the card, a wave of relief washed over him, and a smile spread across his face.

Tyler set the bouquet down on the table and began to strip away the wrapping on it to reveal the vase.

“He sent me an email with all the order details and when to deliver them,” Tyler explained.

“I should have known,” Blaine said almost to himself. “Kurt was always the romantic out of the two of us. I can’t believe he did this.”

“He really loves you,” Tyler said.

“Yeah.” Blaine flipped open the card, and his brow furrowed. “Hold on one sec -”

“What is it?” Tyler asked.

Blaine began to read aloud:

**_I hope your head is fine. That was quite a performance, ex Warbler. You've got the “moves” alright. You’re wondering how I know about your little karaoke adventure. No, it wasn't Tyler. You might want to check YouTube...you were quite the hit - or should I say 5,118 hits last time I checked. So, these flowers are to celebrate you. Sorry I couldn't be there, but know that I would always bring you flowers after a show. ;)_ **

“Scandalous,” Tyler said.

“But I didn't even see anyone with a camera out,” Blaine said, covering his face with his hand and then raking his fingers through his hair.

“Are you kidding? Everyone has a camera on their phone, Blaine,” Tyler said, crossing his arms.

Blaine groaned. “Let’s see the damage.”

“You were great up there. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about,” Tyler said as Blaine retrieved his laptop from the couch and walked it over to set it on the counter. He pulled up YouTube and typed his name into the search bar, and, lo and behold, there was Blaine on that little stage at the bar, one beer too many, moving his hips, twirling, and shaking his ass to Moves Like Jagger.

“Holy -” Blaine said. “I really hope Cooper doesn't find this. He will never let me live it down.”

“Who’s Cooper?” Tyler asked.

“My brother.”

“You have a brother?” Tyler was grinning in a way that caused Blaine to roll his eyes and laugh.

“A very straight, very much older than me brother,” he stressed.

“Oh, darn,” Tyler said.

Then his phone went off, and Blaine’s attention was diverted. The great influx of business the previous day had caused Blaine to miss Kurt’s call when he had been on one of his brief breaks, so he had been keeping the phone close, hoping to not miss another. He practically dashed back to where he had been situated before Tyler’s arrival to grab it off the coffee table.

“Oh! It’s like he heard me talking about him! That’s actually my brother calling, so I have to take this call...sorry, Ty, but thank you so much for delivering the flowers. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. It’s no problem at all. See you tomorrow, Blaine.” And he let himself out as Blaine answered the phone.

“Cooper,” Blaine said. “Hey.”

“Hey, baby brother. How have you been?”

“Are you ever going to stop calling me your baby brother? I’m almost thirty years old.”

“Probably not. You’ll always be younger and so much - shorter.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. But I didn't call to tease you. I wanted to tell you that I’m in town,” Cooper said.

“And what brings you to my neck of the woods this fine day?”

“Work. An audition for some commercial,” Cooper said.

“I’m guessing you’re planning to stay over here?”

“Of course. I am welcome, right?”

“Always, you know that.”

“So, I guess I’ll see you soon then?”

“Yeah. See you, Coop.”

When they disconnected the call, Blaine glanced around the apartment, and it hit him just how much of a bum he had been since Kurt left. His shoes were scattered haphazardly near the door, there were dishes left in the sink, the floor was littered with Barkley’s toys, and he hadn’t even bothered to put his clothes away after his visits to the laundry room and dry cleaners.

He immediately went to work straightening up and preparing the apartment for a visitor because he wasn’t even sure when to expect Cooper. He could drop in any minute. As soon as the apartment looked somewhat presentable, the shower was his next destination.

While Blaine had been cleaning up the place, Barkley was napping in his bed by the sofa, but once Blaine was out of the shower and pulling on a fresh outfit, the dog was whimpering and spinning in circles by the door, alerting Blaine that he desperately needed to relieve himself, and Blaine quickly heeded the call.

Barkley took his time sniffing around outside at every little thing before finally doing what he was brought out there to do, and Blaine absentmindedly cleaned up the best he could before heading back around the block toward home. But a few feet from the apartment, the dog began to growl and bark wildly at someone, and Blaine looked up, coming face to face with his neighbor, Daniel.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry,” Blaine apologized, bending down to try to calm and quiet the rowdy pooch. “He’s not usually like this. I promise he’s harmless.”

“It’s alright,” Daniel assured him. “He’s so cute. Is he a new addition? I haven’t seen much of you lately. How have you guys been, you and Kurt?”

“Kurt’s actually - oh, I keep forgetting that there are people who don’t know,” Blaine said, laughing to himself and a little at himself. “He’s in California right now, filming a season of Project Runway.”

“Oh, that’s neat. I've never watched the show,” Daniel admitted, looking a little sheepish.

“It’s a new series, sorta like a spin-off, called Under the Gunn. Kurt’s been chosen to mentor a team of new designers trying to get their feet wet while they compete against two other teams.”

“Do you get exclusive spoilers from your man?”

“Well, a few, but nothing too juicy,” Blaine said. Barkley tugged on the leash, and Blaine looked down to see him now sniffing politely at Daniel’s shoes, a welcome change from his previous behavior. “After a long day, I think the competition is the last thing he wants to talk about.”

“That’s really exciting, though. I’m really happy for you both,” he said. “Maybe I’ll tune in so I can tell everyone, ‘hey, that’s my neighbor! I know that guy’,” he added, playfully patting Blaine on the arm.

“Trust me, I know that feeling. I still do that,” Blaine said, his chest puffing up a bit with pride.

Daniel grinned genially. “You obviously snagged a great guy.”

The dog let out brief, soft howl, and Blaine pulled his phone out, suddenly aware of the length of their walk that was only supposed to take a few minutes. When he saw the time, he apologized to Daniel again and headed back up to his apartment. While Daniel was his neighbor and they had engaged in small talk on occasion, they weren't much more than acquaintances, and Blaine decided that it felt really good to get a moment to brag to a virtual stranger about his husband, about how successful and talented Kurt is. Because if there was anyone in the world who could claim the title of Kurt Hummel’s biggest fan, it was Blaine Anderson, and oh so proudly and willingly so.


	10. Brothers

Blaine was sitting at his desk sketching a few new design ideas when a slip of paper, a page that had been torn out, fell out of his sketchbook and fluttered to the floor. He bent over and lifted it up from where it had landed. Upon closer examination, he saw that written upon the paper were lyrics that he had scribbled down, but he couldn't remember when he had.

He knitted his brow as he read over them a few times, and then it hit him.

“Oh,” Blaine said to himself.  _Oh_ , he thought, as the memory blasted him like a rush of cold air to the face. God, the paper was even faded, and he was surprised that he still had it and hadn’t thrown it away during one of his spring cleaning sessions.

Three years ago, when he had sat in his chilly Chicago apartment designing his final collection for All Stars and missing Kurt, Blaine scribbled down these words in his sketchbook. But he had long forgotten about them, had never bothered to add music. But looking back over them now, he was actually impressed with the lyrics. They felt relevant right now as he sat alone in his slightly less chilly apartment in New York.

He had a little keyboard that he liked to mess around with every once in a while, but never for anything serious. Mostly, it sat under the bed collecting dust. Also, stowed away in the back of the closet was his guitar, shut up in its case, barely ever allowed to see daylight. More than a few times, Kurt had begged him to take it out and tune it in hopes he would play something, but Blaine never really felt like playing, and when he did give in, he usually never made it past the tuning.

Today was different. In the past, he had always made a point to finish what he’d started. Today he was going to sit down, tune the guitar, and finish the song.

It was like catching up with an old friend, one he knew so well, as he sat down on the couch with the guitar and ran his fingers across the strings. He positioned his fingers on the frets and applied pressure. The familiar rich mahogany and maple wood smell of his Gibson acoustic with a hint of metallic incense caused him to close his eyes and bow his head before lightly strumming. The chord rang out into the quiet apartment, and he proceeded to play a few more, easing into a basic rhythm.

Blaine looked over the page of lyrics on the coffee table in front of him and began to play around, matching the words to tones, penciling it all in, until he had something that resembled a song. No, it _was_ a song. He had written a song again, and his hands began to tremble in his excitement when he realized what he had accomplished.

Blaine played all the way through the song a few times before grabbing his phone and checking the time. It was getting late, but he figured Kurt would still be filming. He called Kurt’s phone and prayed for it to go to voicemail. When it did, he quickly positioned his fingers on the neck and began to play. He hoped it would record it all as he strummed and sang into the phone. When his song was over, he reached down and hit end call on the screen.

About a minute later, his phone buzzed with a text. That was quick, he thought, but then saw that the sender was Cooper and not Kurt:

_stop making all that racket_

Blaine rolled his eyes and set his phone back down. “Are you shitting me?” Blaine called out across the apartment, his voice carrying into the bedroom.

“I’m trying to sleep, and you've been playing that thing for hours now,” Cooper called back.

Cooper slowly made his way into the main room, rubbing his eyes and scratching his stomach. He walked over to the fridge to pour himself a glass of water, and Blaine just glared at him.

“You've been sleeping all day,” Blaine said.

“Hey, I had a long flight -”

“An hour and a half flight. Man, you must be exhausted,” Blaine jested.

“I need my beauty sleep.”

Blaine laughed. “I thought you came here to spend some time together, but I’m pretty sure my pillow has seen your face longer than I have.”

“I’m awake now, aren’t I? Let’s go out somewhere,” Cooper said. “What were you playing anyway?”

“It was nothing, just something stupid I wrote,” Blaine half-mumbled.

“I haven’t heard you play that thing since high school...why now?” Cooper took a seat on the couch next to Blaine.

“I don’t know. I just felt like it. I found some lyrics I had written and figured I might as well do something with them,” Blaine explained.

“It was for Kurt, wasn’t it?” Cooper asked.

“Yeah.” He shifted in his seat, pulling the guitar strap from around his shoulder, and set the instrument in its velvet-lined hard leather casing. “He’s so excited to be there in LA, and he’s been doing so well. I’m happy for him - but I miss him,” Blaine said, lowering the lid and snapping the metal latches on the case closed.

“Of course you do. That’s why I’m here to distract you,” Cooper said.

“Coop,” Blaine said. “I thought you were here for an audition?”

“I am, but I’m also here because I feel awful that I wasn’t there for you the last time Kurt was gone.” Cooper looked down at his hands on his knees for a moment. “And I feel like I never - maybe I didn't deserve being called your best man.”

“Oh, god, don’t, seriously,” Blaine said. “It’s not your responsibility to come running to my rescue whenever something goes wrong. We made mistakes, and we got through it. You have your own life, and you shouldn't feel guilty about that.”

“I know, man, but -”

“But nothing, Coop,” Blaine cut him off. “You've always been there for me, and you were at the wedding - the _best_ best man - and that’s all I could ask for. Now, get your ass off my couch and come out with me. Let’s move this pity party out of the apartment and actually have some fun.” Blaine rose off the couch, went to gather his jacket and scarf, and then slipped his shoes on.

“Alright, Blaine, I’m coming. Give me a few minutes to change,” Cooper said, making his way back toward the bedroom.

“Hurry up,” Blaine called out. “Or I’m dragging you to a gay club, and I won’t be liable for all the admirers you’re sure to attract.”

“You think that scares me? Bring it on,” Cooper shouted. “We might both be Andersons, but, admit it. You’ve got nothing on me.”

“Is that a challenge?” Blaine said, quirking an eyebrow.

Cooper returned, fresh outfit and hair combed. “You bet it is.”

-s-

“Kurt,  _Kurt_ ,  _Kurrr_ -t,” Blaine whined into the phone, his ‘r’s slurring and voice thick. “I’m so glad you called, because you see, you see - I've been thinking about you. I’ve been thinking about your face and your ass,” Blaine giggled. “But not like an assface, because that would just be weird,” he added after a pause, as if he’d taken a moment to consider it.

“You've been drinking,” Kurt said. There was no question.  

“It’s okay, though, Cooper’s here with me to make sure I don’t get too sloppy. He says he’s  _‘babysitting’_  like old times.”

Kurt sighed heavily. “He’s terrible at it. I’m pretty sure you’re already far beyond sloppy.”

“To infinity and beyond!” Blaine said, raising his free arm up on his end, not that Kurt could see it.

“Oh boy,” Kurt responded.

“ _Kurrt_ ,” Blaine rambled drunkenly on again. “I really like saying your name. Kurt.  _Kurt_. It’s like music. You make me think of music. I wrote a song for you! I love you, Kurt. I love you so so much. I love  _you_. When are you coming home to me so I can  _rrravish_  you in our bed? Ooh - I’ll take you on the table or on the floor - against the  _wall_  - or the front door,” Blaine whispered, giggling through it like a child saying a swear word. “...I can’t wait long enough to make it to a bed.”

-s-

“Oh god,” Blaine grumbled to himself as he struggled to open his eyes to the harsh sunlight cutting in through the window. Couldn't it have waited just a few more hours to rise?

“You’re awake.” Cooper walked into the room, a glass of water and two Aspirin in hand.

“Why are you talking so loudly?” Blaine groaned. He sat up and cradled his pounding head in his hands.

Cooper simply laughed at him. “Take those, drink that, and then come out to the living room, because I have something you might want to see.”

Fear spiked inside of Blaine. He desperately tried to recall everything he had done and said the previous night - he knew he had been careless and had overdone it just a little - but much of it was fuzzy and fragmented in his head. He hoped to god that he hadn’t made a repeat of the last time he went out, especially since he hadn’t been nearly as coordinated or aware this time. But he was fairly certain that he was safe because the place they had been never had karaoke or anything like that. Still, he couldn’t imagine what was waiting for him.

Once he was up, he half-stumbled his way into the other room where Cooper was seated with Blaine’s laptop open on the counter while he beat some eggs in a bowl for breakfast. Blaine slumped down into a chair at the table and waited for Cooper. Blaine preferred to remain in blissful ignorance for as long as he could, so it wasn’t until his brother set the computer in front of him that he finally looked up, focusing in on the screen.

“Twitter,” Blaine said.

“Yes. Just have a look, scroll through for a bit. You’ll see it.” Cooper stepped away, a smug grin on his face.

“I’m not sure what it could even - oh.” Blaine took a moment to read and process:

* * *

 **Kurt Hummel**  @emBarKurt

It seems like Woody got a little too Buzzed.

Good to know that NY is as exciting as ever ;)

#holdyourhorses #illbehomesoon

* * *

“You drunk dialed him?” Cooper asked, obviously amused.

“No, I don’t think so. Wait. Kurt called me, but I can’t remember much of what I said to him.”

“He at least seems to be able to joke about it, so it must not have been that bad. But what’s with the Toy Story pun, and why’d he call you ‘Woody’?  I feel like I missed something,” Cooper said.

Blaine felt his face heat up, his mind flashing to an image of a very aroused Kurt on his computer screen. He swallowed thickly. “I - I have no idea, Coop. He must have just had Disney on his mind or something,” he lied.

“Maybe he went to Disneyland in between filming?” Cooper said, shrugging.

“I don’t know, but I’m done. I mean it. I can’t keep going out drinking and embarrassing myself,” Blaine said.

Cooper froze and turned toward Blaine. “What do you mean by that? Something like this happened before?”

Blaine swallowed. “It’s best if I’m the one who tells you.” He turned the laptop around and slid it in Cooper’s direction across the table. “YouTube. Moves Like Jagger. My name. You’re welcome.”

He laid his head on the table and closed his eyes as the song that would forever haunt him began to flow through the laptop speakers, followed by muffled snickers.

“Pure gold,” is all he heard after that. And then the sizzling of butter in the pan on the stove and the clinking of utensils as Cooper gave Blaine some much needed space and prepared what would be a much needed breakfast he hoped he’d be able to stomach.


	11. Redesigning The Mouse

Kurt watched the scenery roll by through the window as the SUV sped on down the highway. They were soon approaching the exit for Anaheim made obvious by a gigantic sign that read Disneyland; you couldn’t miss it if you tried.

The quiet, excited chatter of his mentees filled the interior of the vehicle, but Kurt heard none of it over the song playing on repeat in his head, the song Blaine had written. He was surprised enough to have had a voicemail from Blaine awaiting him the previous night, and when he heard the music begin, the soft strumming of the guitar and the rich sound of Blaine’s voice, he held the phone closer to his ear and gripped at his chest over his heart.

He’d listened to it a million times already, and, although the lyrics were sorrowful, he would swear it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard in his life. With each note Blaine plucked on the guitar, Kurt felt it pull at his heartstrings, his chest swelling and heart thrumming. Kurt had waited so long for Blaine to play again, and he couldn’t fight back the tears that had sprung to his eyes.

By far, the song trumped his excitement over the trip to Disneyland. His constant hint-dropping and gentle pestering hadn’t worked to get Blaine to play something since they’d been together, but he was overwhelmingly happy that something had triggered and inspired him. While he was a bit upset it hadn’t been when he was home with Blaine to hear it live, Kurt was still moved by the music, incredibly overjoyed to know that Blaine had allowed himself to recapture a bit of himself and his past that had been so much of who he was, something he had been suppressing - but no more. Kurt couldn’t wish anything more for Blaine.

Kurt had tried to call Blaine to talk about the song, but, to his surprised amusement, was greeted by a plastered Blaine, apparently accompanied by Cooper. Kurt was glad he had his brother there to keep him company, but if that was the kind of fun they’d be having regularly, then Kurt couldn’t help but be a little concerned. Blaine had never been much of a drinker before, but he’d gone out two nights in a row - Kurt hoped that it was a one-time - well, two-time - thing, something he just had to get out of his system.

The way Blaine was short with him over the phone on occasion, the drunken karaoke, the song, and then the drunken phone call seemed out of character and so vastly different from the Blaine he’d met on Project Runway, but, perhaps Kurt was finally seeing Blaine for who he truly was as he let his walls down and grew more comfortable in their relationship.

It was about an hour drive to the theme park from FIDM, so it had been a bit of an early day. Kurt was still waking up completely, but he knew it would fully hit him once they were standing before the gates of Disneyland.

The sun beat down on them as they were led into the park and toward an area that had been sectioned off for filming the show. By the cameras and crew were a few of the Disney princesses, lined up, waving, and beaming in greeting.

Kurt stood there, inhaling the aromas of the park: ice cream, cotton candy, french fries, hot dogs, churros, other unidentifiable junky, savory fried foods, and his mouth began to water. His stomach gurgled, but his head snapped up and attention was pulled back toward the Disney heroines and Tim Gunn when he cleared his throat to announce the challenge.

“Good morning, designers, and welcome to Disneyland of Anaheim! I’m sure you recognize these lovely ladies -” He turned and gestured to the costumed women. “While they are classic, timeless characters whose stories most of us know well, your challenge will be to make them new again while maintaining the integrity of the character and magic behind them. You will create avant garde looks that are updated versions of the Disney divas standing before you.”

For the challenge, each mentee pulled from a bag for the character from which they would draw inspiration, and Kurt watched in anticipation.

Kurt’s team got a good mix of characters: Marco pulled Megara, Ruby pulled Mulan, and Viola ended up with Kida Nedakh. When Viola pulled the name, most of the designers and mentors were confused and grew silent, but Viola clapped excitedly before turning to all of them: “She’s from Atlantis!” A quiet collective “oh” could be heard. Kurt knew it was one of the more obscure films, so he wasn’t convinced the “oh” was at all a sign of recognition, but it certainly answered the question of who the white-haired, tribal-looking character in the lineup was.

“You will have thirty minutes to sketch,” Tim Gunn spoke again, “but, since it would be cruel to bring you to ‘The Happiest Place on Earth’ and not let you enjoy it, you’ll also have a few hours to explore the park. You know what they say about all work and no play.” He laughed briefly to himself. “Because of this excursion, you will be given two days for this challenge. Good luck, designers, and don’t forget to have fun!”

The other teams’ designers were assigned Aurora, Pocahontas, Tiana, Jane Porter, Jasmine, and Ariel, and, once they all had a character to work with, the designers were given time to chat with the actors and interview them before sitting down to sketch.

Kurt had never been to any of the Disney theme parks before. His empty stomach was relentlessly calling him toward the surrounding food carts and restaurants, and his general excitement about actually standing here on the smooth, stone walkway with the castle towering above them distracted him from paying as much attention to his mentees as he probably should have.

Marco closed his sketchbook, sprang to his feet, and turned to Kurt, a look of pure excitement on his face. “We have to ride the Pirates of the Caribbean ride,” he said, his eyes gleaming.

Kurt nodded slowly, a grin stretching across his face, and then they quickly turned to begin their trek through the park.  

“I’m coming with you guys,” Amanda said, walking up behind them and squeezing herself in between them. “But only if we head to Space Mountain afterwards.” She linked her arms with Kurt and Marco, one on either side, a familiar, friendly gesture that Kurt had seen her do with Blaine in the past. He was taken aback for a split second, stiffening at the contact, but then relaxed.

“Alright,” Kurt said, unable to protest, feeling his five-year-old self return and take over his body, and they rushed off toward the attractions.

The long, unforgiving lines were something that hadn’t crossed Kurt’s mind. While they were waiting, making small talk with each other and the people around them, Kurt thought about calling Blaine, but when he took his phone out, he saw that he had a message from Finn with a video attached. After pressing play, he almost instantly covered his mouth with his hand, attempting to hold in the embarrassing amount of “aw”s and cooing that threatened to escape him as he watched the short video of his nephew Collin. Although there was plenty of noise around him, in the background he could hear Finn and Rachel talking to the toddler, and then, clear as day, the child uttered:

“Hi, Uncle Kurt! Uncle Blaine!”

Collin repeated himself a few times, waving to the camera as his proud parents clapped, gave praise, and giggled in the background. Kurt thought for certain he would die from the overload of cuteness, and he watched the video a few more times before sending a text to Blaine that he would call him later on his break.

Nothing could kill his mood for the rest of the day.

Before their time was up in the park and it was time to return to reality - well, reality television, - they stopped by one of the souvenir shops. Kurt browsed around, not really planning to buy anything. He saw memorabilia from some of his earliest childhood experiences with Disney, including toys, shirts, and otherwise from films such as Bambi, Aladdin, and The Little Mermaid, but it wasn’t until he came across a stuffed Stitch toy that he knew he had to buy it for his nephew.  

Bag clutched tightly in his hand, Kurt climbed into the SUV with the rest of his team, and they headed back toward FIDM, feeling reenergized from the sun and the day’s festivities.

-s-

Kurt stepped out of the lounge and found a quiet corner away from the general hubbub of the competition. He had put off calling Blaine, but it would be a welcome comfort to hear his voice again and finally get to talk to him about some things that had been on his mind.

“Hey, Kurt,” Blaine said. “I’m gonna put you on speakerphone because I’m trying to cook.”

“Ooh, what’re you making?” Kurt said. “Anything good?”

“Nothing special, just stuffed peppers,” he explained. Kurt heard the sounds of the knife striking the cutting board as Blaine sliced away at said peppers.

“Mm. I wish I was home for that. I’m sure it’s way better than what I ate today."

“Oh?” Blaine continued to make noise as he moved around the kitchen, gathering and putting together the meal’s ingredients.

“Against my better judgment, I had a corn dog, some fries, and a deep-fried pastry in the shape of Mickey Mouse’s head called a beignet. I’m sure I’ll regret it later.”

Blaine paused before spooning the seasoned rice and beef mixture into the hollowed pepper halves. “Where were you?”  

“Disneyland,” Kurt said breathlessly. “It was overwhelming, and I can honestly say that the competition was temporarily pushed to the back of my mind.”

“You went to Disney? I thought you were filming today?”

“We are. It’s a Disney challenge, so they took us on a field trip.”

“Now it all makes sense,” Blaine said with a quick laugh. “I would have loved to have a challenge like that when I was on Project Runway.”

“I would have loved it if you had been able to go, too.”

Blaine was quiet for a moment, and Kurt listened as Blaine slid the baking dish with the peppers into the oven. “We’ve got time, Kurt.”

“I know. I wish you could see the things my team came up with though. I know you will eventually, but I’ve never been more proud of them.” Then Kurt suddenly remembered the video from earlier. “Oh! And you won’t believe what Finn and Rachel sent me today!”

“Would it happen to be the most adorable video in existence starring the one and only Collin Hudson?” Blaine said.

“How did you - ? They sent it to you too, didn’t they?”

“Yep. I think I’ve watched it at least ten times today, and I’ve been wearing a silly grin every time I think about it. The emBarK crowd probably thought I was losing it.” Blaine laughed softly and then sighed.

“It definitely brightened my already brilliant day,” Kurt said. He pulled his phone away from his ear to glance at the time. “My break’s over. I need to get back to the lounge now so I can check in on my team.”

“Alright. Good luck, Kurt. I’ll talk to you later,” Blaine said.

“Definitely. I still want to talk to you about what you left on my voicemail.”

Blaine was confused for a moment. “Oh yeah, that. Well, call me when you can. I love you.”

“Yes, _that_ \- don’t be so humble, Blaine. I will call later, and I love you too.”

-s-

Kurt swallowed hard as he looked on at the bottom three.

“We’re sorry, Marco, but you’re out.”

Kurt exhaled heavily, his eyes downcast. He rose from his seat and stepped onto the runway to give his mentee a parting hug. “Thank you,” Kurt said by his ear. He pulled away, keeping Marco at arm’s length. “This loss means nothing. It’s their loss, really, and I suppose mine. But I loved having you on my team. You’re not just talented, but you’re a great person. I’ll miss you.”

“Thank you so much,” Marco said, trying his best to hold back tears. “Goodbye, Kurt.”

It should have been more devastating than it was, or at least disheartening, but when Marco was eliminated, Kurt calmly accepted the situation. He was confident that it wasn’t by any means an end for his ex-mentee. Now that he would have the exposure from being on the show, it was only the beginning of his career.

Although he had really grown used to having Marco around, Kurt figured it was inevitable; he couldn’t take all of his designers to the finale. He did still have Ruby and Viola, so there was no reason to take the hit too hard.

But there was something else that kept Kurt in a good mood in spite of his loss, and it was the video of his nephew and Blaine’s song. It was always a comfort to be reminded of family, especially when he was so far away and had few opportunities to visit everyone back home in Ohio, save for the holidays. So the song that Blaine had written him and the video Finn had sent him carried him through and made it easy to let the tough stuff and the stressful things roll off his back.

The hotel was beginning to feel a little more like home now, not his home, but a place of privacy, comfort, and solace to retreat to at the end of the day. Plus, there was always a promise of loved ones only a phone or a Skype call away.

Kurt set the phone atop the covers beside him in the bed, listening to it ring on speakerphone as he waited for an answer.

“Hey, Kurt,” Finn’s voice sounded through the speaker, slightly distorted and crackling.

“ - Hi, Uncle Kurt!”

“Hi, Collin!” Kurt said, waving at the phone even though he knew they couldn’t see him.

He could hear Rachel in the background followed by the pitter patter of tiny feet and squealing laughter.

“Put that down -”

“I’m so sorry. It’s a bit of a zoo over here,” Finn said with an uneasy laugh.

“I can imagine. It’s just really great to hear your voice - all of you,” Kurt said.

“Oh, yeah, you’ll be hearing a lot from Collin. Don’t tell Rachel I said this, but he definitely takes after her in the talking department,” Finn said. “He doesn’t shut up now.”

“Hey! I heard that, _Finn_ \- Collin, I told you not to -”

Kurt heard Rachel let out a groan of frustration and then her voice faded out again.

Kurt couldn’t keep himself from laughing. “You two definitely have your hands full.”

“Yeah. You have no idea. Um, Rachel is glaring at me, so I think I better go,” Finn said. “Collin should have been in bed two hours ago, but...I’m sure you can tell how that worked out.”

“Alright. Well, good night and good luck…and send me more videos!” Kurt said.

“Sure thing, Kurt.”

Kurt heard screaming and crying start up in the background, then a rushed “Good night” before Finn disconnected the call.


	12. Get Into Gear

Kurt grinned from ear to ear when he rolled over in bed and came face to face with the Stitch stuffed toy that was sitting just behind the clock on the nightstand. He felt so warm and cozy that he didn't want to climb out of the nest of blankets he was curled up in, but he had no choice in the matter. Alas, he was an adult with obligations and was expected at FIDM in about, well, two short hours.

He threw the covers off himself and practically flung himself out of the bed, rushing to the bathroom.

-s-

Kurt found himself really focusing on the cameras today, and he was zoning out while direction was given. He became acutely aware of the abundance of microphones, all the filming equipment, and the crew. They were omnipresent, but sometimes it was still easy to ignore them and forget they were there, to forget that he was like a specimen in a zoo right now. People were going to be watching his every move, criticizing him, and they already had been, already were. His and Blaine’s ventures onto social media like Twitter had made the fame game increasingly real and somewhat terrifying.

Suddenly, Kurt felt nervous, such a strange occurrence toward the end of the competition and having had his fair share of experience with Project Runway. The light glaring off the lens rose perspiration on his skin.

It took everything in him to not stare directly into the cameras today, to pretend they weren't there. And he kept thinking about the outside world, what  would inevitably be on the other end of those cameras. Screens, dozens of screens, television and computer monitors, cell phone and tablets, maybe even IPods and those other “Smart” little gadgets. And all those people staring into them, at him, at them, learning everything about him.

If everyone was so connected and so in tune, then why did Kurt feel so disconnected?

The more he thought about it, the more he realized just how much time he’d spent of the last few years of his life behind a screen, well, behind other peoples’ screens, and he knew that, while he loved Project Runway, no matter what, this would be his last stint with reality television.

He was ready to live his own life, with his family, with Blaine.

Speaking of technology, Kurt could have sworn he’d just heard Tim Gunn say steampunk, though it was of a different variety, a step back in history. He was suddenly out of his head and back inside the walls of FIDM.

He had heard correctly. They were definitely doing a steampunk challenge, and Kurt was sucked back inside his own head, memories and his extensive knowledge and past experience with the style swirling about within it. Back in his All Stars days, he’d done all the research and created an entire final collection with accents of the fashion of the genre. Now that he only had two mentees, he was sure they had this in the bag. With his advantage, it was a sure win, as long as he could focus.  

Now his nerves turned into a bubbling anxiety, but a good one, and Kurt clapped his hands together before approaching, no, bouncing toward his two remaining designers.

“I am so glad we got this challenge,” Kurt began, addressing both Ruby and Viola. “I already know exactly what you two should do, but I also don’t want to interrupt your creative processes or step on your toes.”

“We've both seen your past work, and we respect and will appreciate all of your enthusiasm, input, and criticisms,” Ruby said, and Viola nodded.

They soon set to work, and it took everything within Kurt to remain hands-off, but he did manage. And when he was kicked out of the workroom, he was crestfallen, but he soon straightened back up and, head held high, marched into the mentor lounge.

Kurt’s confidence had not slipped but instead grew once he saw what his team was capable of. Viola still had a few tricks up her sleeve that amazed and surprised Kurt every time she revealed one.

He set a cup under the stream and moved the nozzle to let the coffee flow freely into it. The show seemed to be upgrading its technology; they’d replaced the coffee pot and machine with large thermal dispenser. Or maybe they felt like the mentors needed a greater supply now that they were so far along in the competition. Hot beverage in hand, Kurt hummed happily as he took a seat on the one couch. When he finally looked across the room, he was met with a glare.

“Hello, Isaac,” Kurt said, only remotely taunting. At this point, he couldn't help himself.

“You’re unusually chipper,” he responded, leaning back and crossing his arms across his chest. He let out a heavy, exasperated sigh.

“And you seem like you’d rather be anywhere but here,” Kurt said. He was certain the cameras were zooming in on him now. He was giving them exactly what they wanted. He could do drama.

As much as he hated to admit it, being in front of the cameras changed Kurt and dictated much of his behavior.

“Oh no, I’m not ducking out of here, regardless,” Isaac said.

“Regardless of what?” Kurt knew, could tell that Isaac was struggling. It made him smug, and he too crossed his arms across his chest, sitting up straighter in his seat.

“Not that it’s something I’d like to share with you, but, unfortunately, you’re currently the only one around here worth talking to.”

“Thank you, I think?”

“Don’t get too big-headed now, Kurt.”

Kurt snorted.

“Yes, yes, we know you've got quite some talent on your team.”

“I do.”

“And this steampunk thing? My team doesn't seem to get it.”

“Are you sure it’s not you?” Perhaps Kurt was pushing it, feeling a bit too confident.

“You really can be an ass, Hummel.”

“And you really care too much about getting it. Perhaps that’s why you've been so distracted. Is Dylan the one who doesn't seem to get it?”

“Why should I tell you anything?” He huffed. “More or less.”

“It would be a shame if he went home.”

“It won’t make a difference. Can’t get what I want out him on any front.”

“You’re vile, Isaac Long. I don’t even need to say anything, you seem to be good enough at destroying yourself and your team. So, kudos.”

At that moment, Amanda entered the room, returning from a trip to the bathroom.

“Are we being genial? Congratulating each other?” she said. “I don’t want to miss the good vibes.”

Isaac quirked an eyebrow, smirked, and then let out a laugh. “Sweetie, you didn't miss anything. Trust me.”

“Good. So what were you two talking about?”

“Just the fact that the competition is drawing closer to its conclusion, and it’s going to be a good one,” Kurt said with as much snark as he could muster.

“Ooh! Are we betting? Any money on the outcome?”

“No.” Isaac sat up and rose from the couch. “Nothing is ever predictable about this competition. I wouldn't be so foolish. And neither should you two.”

Kurt swallowed, shrinking a bit at the truth in the statement. Perhaps he was letting his ego get the better of him. He remained quiet and drank his coffee.

-s-

Kurt sat in the chair in the interview room, checking his hair and makeup in a mirror supplied to him before handing it back to a crew member. He stared directly into the camera this time, awaiting his cue that the camera was rolling.

“Speak a little on your feelings about the judging and elimination.”

Kurt remained silent and contemplative, trying to choose his words and response carefully. He knew that anything he said or did could and would be used against him, especially with the power of editing during which much was often taken out of context. God forbid you scratch your nose and it get misinterpreted as something impolite and unsanitary or say something just a little off. Or his entire interview might not make it on the show at all.

“I wasn’t worried,” he began. “This particular challenge was right up my alley, and I know what my mentees are capable of by this point.”

“How confident do you feel about taking home the win?”

“I believe in my team,” was all Kurt dared say.

 

* * *

Isaac was tense, his jaw clenched as he stared into the camera.

“Now that you've lost the advantage, how do you feel?”

“It’s still anybody’s game.”

“Yes, but you’re down to only two mentees. Do you feel confident about winning?”

“I've done it before, haven’t I?” He let out a brief laugh. “But like I said, I think it’s too soon to call anything. I’m certainly not throwing in the towel.”

 

* * *

Amanda was nonchalantly looking at her fingernails, slumped in the interview seat. When given her cue, she straightened up and smiled, almost devilishly.

“Can you speak on your feelings about being this far along in the competition?”

“My money’s been on Hummel the entire time.”

“You don’t care if you win? You don’t think you have a chance?”

“I never said that. I’m just really enjoying the twisted tensions between those two drama queens. If I didn't know any better, I would think that there’s a different type of tension between them.”

“Do you think there’s something going on behind closed doors?”

“Oh, no, not at all. If nothing else, Hummel is loyal and determined to a fault. No, I just think they’re reliving their past rivalry.”

 

* * *

 

 

Blaine set the boutique phone down on the counter and tore out the page he’d scribbled something down on during the call. They wouldn't divulge too much information, but Blaine knew he needed to move his schedule around a bit, book a hotel room and a flight, and also figure out what he would do with Barkley.

He looked over to his right, spotting Tyler, and he grinned.


	13. Monet Speaks

Kurt stood in the large, open exhibit room of the museum, facing the wall display with his arms crossed over his chest. He squinted a bit, cocked his head to the side, hummed, and then resolutely shook his head.

Nope. He still didn't get it. But art was art, he supposed, and he was sure there were plenty of people in the world who didn't understand fashion, his chosen art form as a profession and way of life.

The heels of his boots clacked across the tile floor as he turned away from the painting he’d been examining and headed back toward the rest of the cast and crew, who were mostly in place to begin filming.

After a short period of waiting around, Tim Gunn signaled for everyone’s attention. “Good afternoon, designers and mentors. Welcome to the J. Paul Getty Museum at the Getty Center where, as you can see, we’re currently surrounded by some awe-inspiring European art, more specifically, paintings. I hope you've had some time to explore the gallery, because we’re about to get down to business. For today’s challenge, you’ll be creating a look inspired by one of these exquisite pieces by select artists known as the Impressionists.”

Kurt turned his attention to the paintings - or reproductions of the originals, he supposed - on display behind Tim, set up on wooden easels in a neat row. These images were much clearer than what he’d been looking at, landscapes and still lifes and sunsets and dancers, all painted with defining brush strokes and color palettes. Now these ones he understood.

“Each designer’s name will be drawn out of the pouch,” he held up a small, velvet bag, shaking it gently, “and when your name is called, you will have the opportunity to choose the painting with which you wish to work.” Tim reached his hand in and plucked out a thin, plastic disc with a name on it.

The mentors carried on a quiet commentary as names were called and the mentees tried their luck at their top pick.

“Well those two are dreadfully depressing,” Amanda said, pointing to the Cézanne and Manet pieces.

“ _And_ one of your mentees just chose Manet,” Kurt said with a laugh.

Isaac stepped up beside Kurt and cleared his throat, announcing his presence. Kurt side-eyed him but didn't bother to give him his full attention.

“I just scored Degas and Renoir,” he said smugly.

“Smart girl,” Kurt said as he watched his mentees choose, ignoring Isaac. “Both of them. Pissarro and Monet. The color schemes have so much more life in them than the other pieces. They’re much warmer and more vibrant.”

“Shit. And there he goes choosing Cézanne. I think I jinxed myself,” Amanda said followed by a peeved sigh.

“Just be grateful that you don’t have to design anything yourself,” Kurt said.  

“Well, I hope my team can come up with something cute for skulls and a creepy harbor at midnight, or I’ll be walking to my execution.”

Kurt watched Amanda march off to consult with her team once the artwork Hunger Games were through, and the odds were certainly not in her favor.

-s-

The workroom was abuzz when the mentors entered, and Kurt examined the fabric choices, running his hands over some to feel the texture, while simultaneously checking out the sketches and the paintings being used for reference and inspiration. He had been drawn to the colors and was intrigued by the images, wanting to study them longer and more thoroughly.

The Pissarro struck him as very industrious, with the steamboat and factory building in the background, smoke rising from its stacks. It made him think of honest work and progress. There was a man in the bottom right corner with his horse and carriage, who appeared to be going out early to the markets, perhaps to supply his own business or restaurant with food. Or maybe he was heading home after a long day. The boat, he thought, could be carrying wares to another country to sell. The factories could be the life of the city, providing jobs and keeping the city afloat.

And he thought about his dad at home in Ohio, working diligently what most would call a layman’s job, running the tire shop. But it was earnest work, and Kurt deeply respected him and how skillfully he ran the small business and handled customers with ease. In a sense, Burt helped keep Lima afloat, offering a crucial service and his kind heart to the neighborhood and anyone in need who might be passing through.

“Hey, Ruby,” Kurt said to grab her attention.

She’d been staring hard at her sketch, her hand at her chin, and tapping her pencil against the tabletop, but his address stirred her, and she turned with a smile.

“I know. This looks really bad,” she said with a nervous laugh. “I feel like I’ve hit a wall. At first I thought to do a pantsuit, something powerful and feminine, but then I thought maybe I should make a dress that I can bring the feminine aspects into, but would make the wearer think, ‘I’m fierce, I can turn heads, but I can also kick major ass’.”

“From what you’ve described and from what I took away from the painting, I’m thinking Rosie the Riveter, rebooted and modern, edgy and sexy, yet fierce and in control. Something for the everyday woman, yet still high fashion.” Kurt paused as he examined her sketch. “You know, I once designed a pantsuit like that. It wasn’t a callback to Rosie, but I had a very specific woman in mind, strong and kindhearted, hardworking and selfless.”

He’d been thinking about Elyse. Kurt momentarily got lost in fond memories of his dear friend. Where was she now, he wondered. The last he’d heard from her, she’d accepted a fellowship to go abroad and write for InStyle.

“Then I’m thinking I should go with the suit,” Ruby said, bringing him back. “It was my first instinct anyway.”

“Yeah, I think it’s a wonderful idea. It’s bold and may seem like a stretch to be inspired by the painting, but you’ve never failed to make a statement before, and I trust that you can defend to the death your decision and sell it with finesse.”

“Thanks, Kurt. I’ll get right to it.”

At the table beside Ruby, Viola was working on her Monet-inspired look. While Ruby was still figuring out her sketch, Viola had already begun to work with her fabric on and off the dress form. Currently, she was going at a piece of blood orange fabric with a pair of scissors and appeared to be shredding it.

“Whoa, bright,” Kurt said, pulling his head back and acting as if the colors hurt his eyes. Care to share?” he added, scanning the array of brightly-colored materials, mostly yellows, oranges, and reds.

“I’m doing this technique that makes the fabric look feathered. It’s kinda reminiscent of the brush strokes in the painting,” Viola explained.

“Ah, yes, I see it. Just be careful not to create some flaming Big Bird-looking costume.”

She laughed. “No need to worry about that. I’m also incorporating this turquoise accent in the bodice and skirt. I couldn’t decide at first whether to do a gown or something shorter, but I’m going with a sundress.”

“I wholeheartedly agree with your choices. What first struck me about this painting were the colors, so I think you’d be foolish to not incorporate them into your look. It’s very warm but at the same time there’s a haunting quality to it that I can’t really explain. I like the idea of something fun and soft like a sundress, but maybe add something to it, like, an element of surprise or danger.“

“Oh, alright. I get that,” Viola said slowly, returning to her sketch and lifting her pencil to make some alterations. “Yeah, I think I have an idea now. Thank you, Kurt.”

“No problem. Now get to work, because I know whatever you make is going to be amazing, and I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”

Kurt left the workroom with the other mentors feeling confident. Art inspired by art was always an interesting concept to him, and Kurt was excited for the runway show.

-s-

Kurt entered a daydream as he sat sunk into the cushions of the couch in the lounge, his mind traveling to distant places and fabricating elaborate, vivid fantasies the more he thought about the paintings.

The Monet painting was particularly entrancing, depicting what looked like a fortress or a palace across deep ocean waters, just out of reach on the horizon. Kurt thought about the sunset he had watched from the Santa Monica pier the night after the first challenge and how he had longed for Blaine who was just out of reach to be there to share the experience with him.

He’d have it all once the show wrapped up filming and the competition drew to a close. And he’d have it all with Blaine. They’d travel the world, and he’d share with Blaine all the sights he’d found so beautiful and moving.

Kurt knew he’d be happy once he was finished with reality television, because his reality was something he wanted to cherish, and his life alongside his life partner was something he wanted to live and enjoy.

They’d been to Greece together, but Kurt wanted to travel all over Europe, to experience the culture, the fashion, the history, to taste the food and hear the people speaking in tongues he hardly understood. He could imagine waking up next to Blaine in Milan after a night of indulgence and passionate lovemaking, the first slivers of sunlight illuminating the planes of Blaine’s face, his bare chest and arms uncovered, framed by the ruffled blankets and sheets. And then they’d stand by the open window, drinking fancy coffee and watching the world come to life. A new dawn. A new day. The lights and cameras would soon be a thing of the past, and it was time for Kurt and Blaine to start making memories that were truly worth capturing.

Kurt shivered. He blinked and glanced around the room, feeling rattled by his thoughts. Even though he really was ready to leave the life of glitz and glamor behind, it saddened him a bit to admit it to himself. It didn’t make him want to give up or give in or to check out early though. If anything, it only made him more determined to push harder through the next few challenges and win it all. There was glory in the win, and Kurt’s pride was too strong to back down. He was going to go home, but he was going to go home a champion of this Project Runway world that he’d devoted so much of himself to.   

-s-

Kurt’s breath hitched when Ruby’s look came down the runway. The pantsuit had turned into a romper overnight without his knowledge, yet he believed it was an even better design choice on her part. It was made from a navy jersey knit with gray and black accents, and it had a deep V-neck, long sleeves, and was belted at the waist. While it was sleek and sexy, it was also business professional, and the model positively rocked it.

Viola’s sundress was equally as fabulous, but their looks were as different as night and day, the contrast of colors and styles drawing attention in different ways. He’d feared for nothing it seemed, and when the elimination was over, Kurt walked away with both mentees.

Amanda had not been so lucky.

“It’s drab,” he’d heard a judge say, and Kurt could almost hear Amanda screaming in agreement inside her head. Her face said, “Okay, yeah, this is awesome. I’m fine”, but her body language and what she’d told him earlier said, “Oh, dear god, I don’t even care anymore.”

At the conclusion of the day, Kurt had two mentees, Isaac had two, and Amanda was now just holding on with her final mentee.


	14. Holy Hermione!

Kurt could never have possibly been mentally prepared for what greeted him at FIDM for the next challenge. Oh, if only Blaine were here now. One thing was for certain, and that was that Blaine was going to be extremely jealous, but Kurt was kind of relishing his fortune and the chance to boast and tease him about it as soon as he got the chance.

“Good morning, designers! I’m sure most of you recognize this lovely lady standing before you. I’m excited to announce that for today’s challenge, you will be designing a red carpet look for Burberry model and poster girl and the face of Lancôme, Ms. Emma Watson!” Tim Gunn said.

Kurt was starstruck. He couldn't stop staring at Emma, and he’d missed the remainder of the introduction and most of the directions being given. If he was being completely honest, being in the room with her squashed all his interest in the competition or anything or anyone else for that matter. But when it dawned on him that he wasn’t getting the chance to design for her, his heart sank into his stomach.

At only five-foot-five, she stood there, an image of stately and sophisticated beauty, dressed head-to-toe in Gucci, looking fierce and intimidating.

He was doing the opposite of undressing her with his prying eyes, whipping up looks in his head as he studied her body type, sharp facial features, and considered outfits and shapes that had flattered her in the past. Emma Watson could wear anything and make it look good.

The movement of the mentees leaving the runway and heading toward the workroom caught Kurt’s attention, and he was about to turn to exit as well, but Tim told the three mentors to hang back.

“It’s not every day you get an opportunity to meet a celebrity, unless of course you work red carpets like I do. Emma has graciously offered to spend some one-on-one time with each of you today. She believes, as do I, that getting to know her on a more personal level will help you better assist your mentees in creating something she’ll truly love and want to wear for her next red carpet appearance.”

“Hi, guys,” Emma said, smiling and waving at them from where she was now seated across the way.

Kurt watched as Amanda was called over first. She sat down beside Emma, and they spoke quietly. He wasn’t sure how Amanda was even calm at a moment like this, in the presence of someone they’d all practically grown up with on their screens. And of course, he’d followed her fashion career and style evolution from the start, bookmarking and hanging onto magazine interviews when he came across them. But when Kurt really thought about it, perhaps it might just be he who’d grown up with Emma, while his competitors were significantly older.

When it was Kurt’s turn, he was momentarily stunned, and then he made his way over, extending his hand to her in greeting before taking a seat.

“Kurt Hummel. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said before withdrawing his hand.

“The pleasure is mine,” Emma said. She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs, and then smoothed out her skirt.

“I've been such a big fan of your work - Harry Potter, Perks, everything you've done for Burberry...” Kurt felt like he could go on for days, blathering on about her accomplishments and accolades, but he was sure he didn't need to waste Emma’s time reciting back to her her entire resume.

“Thank you so much. I’ll admit that I loved your work on Project Runway back in season three, was it? But I didn't follow you after,” Emma said.

“It’s alright, I completely understand,” Kurt said, feeling honored and having no intention of correcting her. “I didn't expect someone of your caliber to even know who I am. I’d give almost anything to be one of those designers in there right now.”

“Of course I know who you are, and, actually, I would love it if you could design something for me sometime. Honest,” she said, smiling genially.

“Oh! God, I’d love to! That would be such a huge honor. I - uh - I don’t have a business card with me,” Kurt said, patting down all the pockets on his clothes. He looked back up at her sheepishly.

“It’s alright. I could just follow you on Twitter. That works, right?” Emma pulled her phone out of her clutch purse.

“Yeah,” Kurt said, in slight disbelief, his heart rate quickening. “That definitely works. I already follow you, so -”

“There you are. Got it,” she said, pressing her finger to her phone screen with a grin.

Kurt was amazed that she wasted no time at all. He pulled his phone out, and, sure enough, she had followed him back. He knew she actually meant business. Speaking of business, they had gotten sidetracked, and he needed to ask her about her preferences. They sat for another five minutes or so discussing some of her favorite looks she’d worn in the past, Kurt took mental notes, and then he felt like he was ready to enter the workroom and guide his mentees in the right direction.

He thanked her profusely, shook her hand again, and reluctantly went off to consult with his team, a little lightheaded and still feeling like he was dreaming.

-s-

It had been a long, arduous, albeit, productive day, and, after a large dinner at a little Italian place nearby, the shower and his hotel bed were especially inviting. Kurt was glad he had been following Emma’s career, because he truly believed it put him and his team at an advantage when it came to knowing what would please her. Time would tell if he was right, and he hoped that his team would remain intact after the runway show and elimination tomorrow.

Both Viola’s and Ruby’s designs were getting progressively stronger with each challenge, and Kurt didn't think they really needed him anymore. However, it was something to be proud of. He’d been distancing himself more and more from them, and both women had shown that they’d taken something away from his guidance and critiques that helped them become better designers.

Kurt’s first stop was the bathroom to unwind for the night. The shower felt good, really good, and Kurt’s mind began to wander as he shampooed his hair.

God, when was the last time he had shared the shower with Blaine? Blaine was often the one to wash Kurt’s hair for him, massaging his scalp in the process. It always felt amazing, and he was missing the feeling of Blaine’s fingers and hands. He missed the intimacy. How long had it been since they’d had sex? Sure, they’d messed around over Skype and on the phone, but of course it wasn’t the same, not even close. Kurt was becoming aroused thinking about it, and he wanted to blame the olives in the salad and the wine he’d had with dinner, but he knew he’d just been deprived of something he’d been accustomed to having whenever the urge arose.

Almost two months without Blaine. Kurt missed his mouth, his lips, his tongue, the weight of Blaine’s body on or pressed against his, always so hot, often slick with sweat. He missed the tickle and light graze of the hair on Blaine’s body against his skin, the heat and sound of his breath as it became heavier, more rapid and desperate.

Kurt pressed a hand, palm flat, fingers splayed against the wall of the shower as the hot spray continued to beat rhythmically against his skin and course down his body. He wrapped his other hand around his hard, swollen cock and began to stroke himself. His eyelids fluttered shut, and he bit his bottom lip as he conjured images of his husband, bare and open and wanting.

Their honeymoon had been a week-long marathon of debauchery, passionate lovemaking, and shameless, sometimes rough, fucking, garnished with quickies and a tremendous amount of drawn-out foreplay and teasing. Now it felt like he’d quit cold turkey, though it hadn’t hit him so hard until this moment, and he just _needed_ to get off.

He tightened his grip and tugged harder, faster, biting back moans as pleasure pulsed through him. Kurt’s mind went blank as he focused on just the touch, the feel, the friction and pressure, his fist pumping faster and faster until he finally felt release, his body jerking slightly as he came over his hand.

The water washed the remnants of his orgasm away and down the drain as his breaths evened out again. Feeling completely sated and relaxed, Kurt scrubbed at his skin, the soap foaming all over until it was washed away, leaving him feeling fresh and clean. 

Once he was back in the main room, mostly warm and dry and wrapped up in his towel, Kurt climbed into the large hotel bed and spread out across the mattress, stretching his legs out as far as they could go. His tablet was just off to the left on the nightstand, and he picked it up and turned the screen on.

Kurt wanted to be sure he hadn’t been dreaming the whole day and that he’d actually become a contact of and potential designer for the singular and remarkable Emma Watson. Twitter was his first destination, and he checked for notifications and direct messages. The actress was definitely following him - he figured those were just the perks of being in LA. But it was something else that caught his attention while scrolling through his notifications, bringing a smile to his face and filling the room with his laughter.

* * *

 **Blaine Anderson** @emBarKBlaine

Holy Hermione, @emBarKurt!

@EmWatson just followed us. :D

#whatisthiswitchcraft? #loveyoudarling

* * *

 **Emma Watson** @EmWatson

“Holy Hermione, @emBarKurt!

@EmWatson just followed us. :D

#whatisthiswitchcraft? #loveyoudarling”

can’t wait to meet you. ;)

* * *

 **Blaine Anderson** @emBarKBlaine

#DEAD (tell my husband I love him)

* * *

 **Kurt Hummel** @emBarKurt

@emBarKBlaine You better still be alive and

kicking, because we've got a lot of livin’ to do ;)


	15. Growing Up

Blaine sat cross-legged with a pillow clutched tightly against his chest, leaning forward on the end of the bed, his eyes shining and fixed, captivated by the happenings on the television screen. He was caught somewhere between smiling and laughing, his heart feeling like it might burst, and simultaneously crying because his heart ached so much from nostalgia and loneliness.

He’d been out at his dance class all evening, and when he returned to the apartment exhausted, Barkley greeted him at the door, little tail wagging, with lots of wet kisses. Blaine lifted him up in his arms, carried him to the bedroom, and set him down on the bed, breaking his rules. The dog knew he was in forbidden territory and sat still with his head down, but Blaine told him it was okay and just for tonight, and it seemed like somehow the pup understood him.

Barkley laid down and stared at the closed bathroom door until Blaine had showered and returned to settle into bed for the night.

And now he was sitting with the dog on the bed beside him, binging on season two reruns of Project Runway, watching a bright-eyed, barely legal Kurt, just out of college and at a time in his life when Blaine didn't know him yet. The Kurt on the screen was just as beautiful as the Kurt he’d made his vows to, it was the Kurt he’d first fallen in love with the idea of. Blaine began to feel a bit like his teen self again as he admired the man and remembered how he felt then about dreams and possibilities.

But now it was like all he could do was watch him on a screen again, and he felt an empty gratification. Even with Kurt away, he was glad that he would at least never come home to an empty apartment again.

Blaine hadn’t told Kurt the whole truth about why he’d adopted the dog.

“That’s your other daddy, Barkley,” Blaine said, pointing to the screen. “You’ll meet him soon enough. He’s going to love you so much, you’re going to be spoiled. Kurt says you’re better than having a kid, but I wonder if he’ll ever change his mind. Though, we haven’t really talked about it.”

Barkley just looked at him with those big, dark puppy eyes, his ears twitched like he was listening.

He set the pillow down and scooped the dog up in his arms and scratched behind his ears. “Kurt was so young on the show. We were both so young. So many things have changed, little guy, so many things.”

Blaine kissed Barkley on the head, and he wriggled in his arms, his tongue darting out in attempt to lick at Blaine’s mouth.

“You know, I didn't have a daddy around growing up. And you’re lucky enough to have two!” Blaine was silent for a moment. “I don’t know why he left. I was too young to remember much, and Cooper doesn't like to talk about it. That’s my brother, Coop, you met him, and he was always there for me. And my mom, god, she was amazing. She made so many sacrifices for the two of us, and look where we are now.”

Barkley whined softly, and Blaine began to rub his belly.

“It must have been hard raising a son like me,” Blaine said wistfully. “Must have always had her worried about me. I did my best to make it up to her, to show her that I could handle myself, that I was a survivor and that she didn't need to stress herself out over me. If she hadn’t believed in me and allowed me to take chances and make mistakes, I don’t know where I’d be right now. Not in New York. I wouldn't have found the love of my life, or gotten married. I probably wouldn't be doing what I love, creating beautiful things, and dressing beautiful people for a living.”

Barkley climbed off Blaine’s lap and rolled over on his side, snorting quietly, and Blaine chuckled as the small gust of air expelled from his tiny snout hit his arm. His eyes began to fall closed as Blaine continued to rub his belly and pat his side.

Blaine sighed heavily, finally removing his hand. “You can stay on the bed tonight. I won’t tell Kurt; just don’t get used to it.”

Blaine grabbed the remote and turned off Project Runway. He knew all the episodes in the second season by heart, could quote each moment of drama along with the designers, knew each loss and victory, yet he’d never tired of watching it. When Project Runway first aired, it had been a turning point in his life, a point where he’d begun to entertain the possibility of turning his hobby into a career.

Blaine laid back in the bed, his head falling onto his pillow, and carefully pulled the blanket up and around him so he wouldn't disturb the dog. He rolled over on his side to face Kurt’s empty side of the bed.

Despite the care he’d taken, Barkley stirred from the movement, and then crawled on his belly all the way up the center of the mattress until he was by Blaine’s chest where he curled up against him and closed his eyes again.

Blaine fell asleep with thoughts of family swirling around in his head, thoughts of his mom and Cooper, Kurt, Burt, Carole, and even Finn and Rachel. And then, just as he began to drift, he thought about Collin, children and babies...Shouldn't the little guy get to have a cousin? And his mom...how happy it would make her to have a grandchild - or two.

There was a smile on Blaine’s lips as he entered a peaceful slumber.

-s-

_Blaine stood in the doorway of the small kitchen. The sun was streaming in through the window, casting the woman standing by the sink into silhouette. It was quiet, save for a faint clinking of silverware and ceramic as she scrubbed away at the dishes in the sudsy water._

_“Mom...?” Blaine began hesitantly. He had been thinking a lot recently, about his future and what exactly he wanted for himself, but he wasn’t sure how to bring it up. He wanted his mother’s guidance, and he knew he needed her support, but he was still conflicted about whether or not he was being practical._

_She set down the plate she’d been cleaning in the sink, dried her hands on a nearby towel, and turned to face her son. “What is it, Blaine?”_

_“I - I've been thinking about something, and I really want to use you as a sounding board,” he said._

_“Of course. Let’s have a seat,” she said, gesturing toward the kitchen table, and they both pulled out chairs and sat across from each other. “What’s on your mind?”_

_“I’m almost finished all of my general education courses, as you know, and it’s time to choose a major, but every time I think I might make the decision, something tells me - I just feel like it’s all wrong.”_

_“You feel like college isn't right for you?” she said._

_“Not necessarily - you know I love school - but I can’t see myself getting locked into anything except for, well...designing.”_

_“But you feel like it’s impractical?”_

_“Exactly. And I really don’t want to continue taking classes. I haven’t registered for the new semester.” He looked down at the tabletop, tracing the grains in the wood with his eyes. Blaine felt like he was letting his mother down after she’d done everything to make sure he had the best education possible while keeping him safe in the process. He couldn’t look her in the eyes after the confession._

_“You’re an extraordinary talent, Blaine, and I know what you’re thinking, that I’m only saying that because I’m your mom. I’ll be honest with you. Fashion is a tough field to make it in, and I’m sure you’re already aware of that. You spend enough time watching all those reality shows and reading articles online.” She paused, and he finally looked back up. “But if it’s truly what you feel most passionately about, then I’d be a fool to tell you not to chase after your dream.”_

_“You really mean that?”_

_She nodded. “Wholeheartedly.”_

_“Thank you, Mom. You really think I can make it? What if I end up failing?”_

_“I believe your talent, skills, and drive will take you far, no matter what you pursue, Blaine. But, yes. I do think you’ll be successful. And if you do fail, know that failure isn’t a bad thing, it doesn’t mean that you’re any less of a person. You learn best from failure, and sometimes it takes numerous attempts to get something right. You’ll need to get used to rejection, too, and it will never be easy. But, if for some reason I am wrong, I will always be here for you. You’ll always be welcome home, and I’ll never stop being proud of you.”_

_“Thank you, Mom. I guess I did learn from the best,” Blaine said, grinning down at the table. Then he looked his mom in the eye with conviction. “I’m going to go for it.”_

_She rose from her seat, walked around the table, placed her hands on his shoulders, and kissed him on the forehead._

_“I’m glad you are.”_

-s-

The dance classes served as a constant reminder that Blaine wasn’t a teenager anymore, but at least he was keeping in shape and keeping up with the instructor. He found himself practicing the steps around the apartment, especially while preparing meals or cleaning.

Breakfast that morning was accompanied by a full dance production to the tune of American Boy playing inside his head, and Blaine poured his coffee with a swing of his hips before finally concluding his dance and sitting down to drink it safely.

He sipped the coffee while he scrolled through the contacts on his phone, and, arriving at “Mom”, he touched the screen to send the call through. Blaine set it down on the table and pressed the screen again to activate speakerphone.

“Hey, honey,” his mom answered after a few rings.

“Hey, Mom. How have you been? I’ve been thinking about you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, and you’re always on my mind, Blaine. Nothing too exciting is happening in my life, but you might like to know that I did find a Michael Kors wool coat for half-off,” she joked.

Blaine laughed. “You always did have an eye for bargains - and fashion.”

“Just one of my many talents, I suppose. How have you and Kurt been? Well, how are you faring since he’s been in LA?”

“I’m good. Cooper came around and stayed for a few days, but he’s gone now. It was nice to see him. Kurt’s almost to the finale, so he’ll be coming home soon.”

“That’s exciting. Any ideas about what you two will do if he wins?”

“Not really. I hadn’t given it much thought. I don’t think he gets prize money or anything, so I’ll just have to see what happens if and when he wins.”

“You said the finale is soon?”

“Yeah. Kurt wraps up filming in mid December, and afterwards, we’ll be free to come around for the holidays and all.” It just then occurred to Blaine that it would be their first Christmas together as husbands, and there was no place he’d rather be spending it than with their families.

“I can’t wait to see you two again,” Mrs. Anderson said.

“Three,” Blaine corrected.

“Wait, what? What do you mean by ‘three’, Blaine?” His mother sounded apprehensive.

“I adopted a dog while Kurt was away. His name is Snarls Barkley, or Barkley for short, so you’ll get all three of us as a package deal.”

“Gosh, you had me scared for a second. I thought you were going to tell me you went and made another kind of addition to your family without telling anyone.”

“Oh, _no_ , Mom,” Blaine said through laughter. “That would have been one hell of a secret to keep, and I promise you that information of that type is not something I’d ever withhold from you. God, I’m really sorry I scared you.”

“That’s good to know, and no worries. It wouldn't be the worst news to receive.”

Blaine heard the implication in her statement, and he decided he’d change the subject to keep from entering dangerous territory.

“I do have some good news, though. I've been considering expanding the line to include menswear. I haven’t designed it in years, but it might feel really good to return to my roots, ya know?”

“Of course! You were always so good at it too, so I fully support that decision. It’ll also be great for your name and business to appeal to a broader audience and diverse clientele.”

“That’s definitely one of the main factors I've been considering. It just seems like the next logical step.”

“I think you’re right.”

Blaine drained the last of his coffee and then noticed the time on the phone.

“I've gotta go, Mom. I’ll call you again soon when we book the flight.”

“Okay. I’ll be looking forward to hearing from you again. It’s always such a nice surprise when my boys call me up.”

“I promise I’ll see you soon. I love you.” Blaine made a kissing noise into the phone.

“I love you too. Bye.”

“Bye, Mom.”

During the call, something had been nudging Blaine’s leg, and he was trying to ignore it. Now that he’d hung up, he looked down at Barkley who let out a single bark.

“What?” Blaine said to the dog. “Are you upset because I’m not paying attention to you? You know that there are others in my life, right?”

Barkley began to wag his tail at the sound of Blaine’s voice, recognizing the rise in pitch of his voice that was reserved for talking to the animal, and Blaine laughed, got out of his chair, and kneeled down to pet him.

“Don’t worry, Barkley, you’ll be coming with us back to the Midwest. You can meet everyone in Chicago and Ohio. I’m sure you’ll be a hit at the Hudson residence. We’ll just have to make sure little Collin is gentle and doesn't yank on your ears or tail.”

The little dog began to spin around and move toward the door, and Blaine knew what that meant.

“Alright, let’s go for a walk,” he said, grabbing the leash and fastening it to Barkley’s collar. It was beginning to become very chilly out now that it was December, so Blaine bundled up in his coat, scarf, and gloves before heading out the door.

The cold air stung Blaine’s cheeks and ears as they walked along, and he noticed Barkley was shivering.

Blaine pouted. “Aw, sorry, little guy. I’ll have to make a coat for you next time I’m at the boutique. I promise we’ll be quick out here so I can get you back inside in the heat.”

Blaine hadn’t considered how the winter would affect Barkley, but he at least knew that he had some materials and the know-how to make him something to keep him warm. He could potentially have the best-dressed pooch in Brooklyn, and he laughed to himself at the prospect.

And as he thought about dressing the dog, his thoughts traveled from little clothes, to little things, and then landed on babies again. He shivered, not sure if it was just because of the cold weather or if he was scaring himself with his recent fixation on children. It just didn't seem like him, but he couldn't stop picturing himself with Kurt, making their way down the avenue with a baby strapped into a stroller, and Barkley trotting along beside it...a little family of four.

What were his options as a gay man? He knew there was adoption and foster care, but there were always willing surrogates if they wanted a child of which one of them could be the biological father. He’d want it to be Kurt’s son - or daughter - though he didn't think he’d mind the gender either way, especially if he could say they had their father’s gorgeous blue eyes and adorable smile. Blaine grinned at the thought.

But what was most important to Blaine is that the child would have two parents to provide the love and support they needed, something that neither he nor Kurt had for most of their lives growing up. Kurt had lost his mother at an early age, though he still had fond memories of her. Blaine had only had his mother and no clear memories of his father. In fact, he’d never really met the man, and the idea only crossed his mind on extremely rare occasions before he quickly shooed it away.

After Barkley had finished his business, Blaine cleaned up, and they headed back toward the apartment building at a brisk pace.

He pushed all those thoughts to the back of his mind. Blaine could never tell Kurt about how seriously he had been considering it all. He’d think he was nuts. They’d talked a lot about their future together, where they’d like to live and travel, but never about kids, and he knew it certainly wasn’t the right time to bring it up.

Instead, Blaine began to focus on his reunion with Kurt, which was coming up in less than two weeks. He’d received the call while at the boutique the other day with the invitation to the finale, hardly surprised that Kurt would be in it. He had to keep it hushed, and he couldn't wait to surprise Kurt in LA. Blaine had already made arrangements with Tyler to watch the apartment and take care of Barkley while he was away, so the only thing left was for him to pack and emotionally prepare himself, because he knew it was going to be crazy seeing Kurt again after all this time, and he had so many pent-up emotions that were bound to spill out in ridiculous ways once they were breathing the same air and he could finally hold him again. 


	16. Always Getting Better

Despite its many occupants, the room in which they were filming felt empty that morning as Kurt stood awaiting direction. It was as if an eerie yet reverent calm had settled over FIDM, almost like one that oft accompanied a profound loss. It was quiet, save for a murmur of voices from the crew and a humming static in the air. When Kurt turned to talk to the other mentors, he’d come face-to-face with the one other remaining, and the reality hit him that all of this really was wrapping up.

Amanda was gone. Her final mentee had failed to make the cut, had failed to please Emma Watson, and with him, Amanda had been eliminated.

Kurt thought it strange that he felt the way he did, but, even though her elimination meant his spot in the finale was a sure thing, he actually missed her. He’d gotten so used to Amanda being around and talking to her every day, and she’d shown herself to be a much different person than he’d thought her to be in the past. Now it was like he’d lost a friend, though he’d been sure to exchange numbers before she’d parted the set for good. 

“I am beyond excited to announce today’s challenge,” Tim began to speak, pulling Kurt back into the moment. “A wonderful opportunity has been presented to us, one that combines philanthropy with fashion, an opportunity to beautify our world aesthetically _and_ with kindness and compassion while empowering young people. The challenge is to create a formal look that will be donated and auctioned off, the proceeds of which will benefit the Trevor Project, an organization that is very near and dear to my heart and a lot of what we do and stand for here on Project Runway,” he explained.

Kurt knew all about the Trevor Project, and he got lost in thought while Tim Gunn explained in detail what the organization was.

“However, the judging will not be typical. As you know, there are four mentees remaining. All four of their completed looks will go up for auction. Whichever look receives the highest final bid will be the winning look. Likewise, the look to receive the lowest final bid will send that designer home. This challenge will also determine who will move on to the finale.”

Kurt thought this was a wonderful challenge, and he was happy he could devote his time and energy to supporting a cause like this. He’d wished that the Trevor Project had been around like it is today when he was in high school, because he hadn’t known of its existence. But with the birth and growth of social media, awareness spread, and the organization was now reaching and helping so many LGBTQ teens.

Though it made Kurt consider his personal experiences, the challenge had triggered something else, and Kurt’s heart was heavy as he thought about his step-brother’s personal struggles during high school of which he’d not been aware until two summers ago.

When they were dismissed and sent back to the lounge, Kurt took a detour to the bathroom, his phone already out in his hand. He located Finn in his contacts and pressed call, lifting the phone and pressing it to his ear.

“Hey, Kurt,” Finn said groggily, and Kurt hoped he hadn’t woken him up.

“I’m sorry. It sounds like you were sleeping. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“No, it’s alright. I was just taking a nap since Collin is sleeping for once. What’s up?”

“I’m on a break between filming, and, um - I’m just really happy to hear your voice, Finn. It helps remind me why I’m here, doing what I’m doing.”

“You’re being awfully sappy, Kurt,” Finn said through a yawn.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t help it. Today’s challenge is connected with the Trevor Project, you know, the organization with the crisis hotline, and all I could think about was you and how I’m so lucky to have you as a brother,” Kurt said, fighting back tears that unexpectedly welled up in his eyes.

“Whoa, Kurt. I’m here, it’s okay. I’ll always be here. No need to get upset.” He paused. “You’re coming for Christmas, right? We’ll see you then?”

Kurt nodded, though he knew Finn couldn’t see it. “Yeah, I - Blaine and I will be there. I just - if I don’t ever say it, and surely I can’t tell you enough, then I love you, Finn.”

There was a long moment of silence, and all Kurt could hear was the rustle of Finn shifting around.

“I love you too, little brother.” There was another pause. “Are you alright, Kurt?”

Kurt took a deep, shaky breath, wiping away the lone tear that was coursing down his cheek. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. I’m just - I’m really lucky.”

“It’s not luck when someone’s worked as hard as you have to get what you have.”

It wasn’t what Kurt had meant, but he couldn’t deny that Finn was right about that.

“I know,” he said quietly. “Never mind. How’s Rachel? I know she’s been juggling work and the little guy.”

“She’s great. She’s at the college right now. They’re holding auditions soon for _Into the Woods_ , and it’s all she’s been talking about the past month. If there was ever a good reason to have practice tuning Rachel out, it’s for this show. She’s had the movie on repeat. I can quote it now! I love how passionate she always is, but if I have to hear one more thing about beans and cows and yellow hair, then I don’t know what I’ll do. I’m already bracing myself for the weeks leading up to the actual show.”

Kurt laughed. “I won’t make you suffer it alone. I’ll come visit and keep you company during hell week - knowing Rachel, hell _weeks_ \- and we can see the show together. How does that sound?”

“That sounds awesome,” Finn said with what sounded like a sigh of relief.

“Good. I can’t wait to see it. I kinda miss seeing Rachel’s fire, and it’ll sure be something seeing a non-professional college production after becoming so accustomed to Broadway. I’m sure it'll be nothing less than stellar though - Rachel simply wouldn’t allow it.”

“You got that right. Sometimes her standards are set so high, _I_ can’t even reach them.”

Kurt began to laugh, nearly doubling over at a bizarre mental image of Finn on his tiptoes, stretching upward, trying to reach Rachel where she was standing on a roof dangling a gold star above him. Even the gentle giant Finn Hudson sometimes needed a ladder to get on the level of his overly ambitious wife, but making the extra effort to please her was something he was always willing and happy to do.

“Aw man,” Kurt said, catching his breath. “Thank you for that. I needed a good laugh.”

“No problem,” Finn said, and Kurt could hear the smile in his voice. “Glad I could help, but now I gotta go. Someone climbed out of his crib, left his bedroom, and is probably hungry.”

“Alright. It was great talking to you. I’ll see you soon.”

“See ya, Kurt.”

The call disconnected, and Kurt checked the time on his screen, his eyes growing wide as he stuffed his phone back into his pocket and raced back toward the lounge. When he got there, Isaac and Tim were already heading toward the workroom, and Kurt spouted numerous apologies as he tagged along with them.

“They were about to send out a search party for you,” Isaac said. “Thought you’d fallen into the toilet or something.”

“You and I both know my physical assets would make such a thing impossible,” Kurt said, his lips curling into a smirk.

“You amuse and intrigue me, Kurt Hummel. I find your blatant arrogance sexy, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on by you in my life.” His sarcasm did not go undetected.

“Well, isn’t that too bad?” Kurt said. “You have to be at least this tall -” Kurt held his left hand up, his jaw falling open in mock surprise as he brandished his wedding ring. “Oh? Would you look at that. I guess you’ll never get to ride this ride.” And then he strutted off toward Viola and Ruby, hips swaying, knowing exactly what he was doing.

Toying with Isaac was just a way to keep himself amused and to shut the man up. He knew he’d never see the guy again after the competition, so he figured it could do no harm to get his kicks in while he still could.

His mind was soon turned back on the competition when he began to address his team, ending his fun for the time being.

Kurt’s eyes scanned the work table, only seeing bolts of fabric and some supplies.

“Where’s your sketch, Viola?”

“I didn’t do one,” she said nonchalantly. Viola draped a strip of fabric over the shoulder of the dress form.

“Why not?”

“I decided that I wanted this look to be completely organic. I want to just go with whatever happens, improvise, and work through it without a plan,” she said.

“Pardon me, but that sounds completely ludicrous. Why would you wait until the challenge that determines your fate, of whether or not you go to the finale to just throw all logic and sane practice out the window and just _wing_ it?”

“That was the idea,” Viola said with a confidence that Kurt interpreted as defiance.

“You’ve been doing so well!” Kurt practically shouted. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ruby watching him and the exchange, and he turned for a second to look at her. But when their eyes met, her head dropped down, and she immersed herself in her work, acting as if she hadn't been listening. Kurt refocused his full attention on Viola.

“You’re just going to have to trust me,” she said, holding her ground and keeping her calm. The same could not be said about Kurt who huffed in disapproval.

Kurt’s head snapped to the side when he felt a hand gently grasp his upper arm before releasing its grip. Tim Gunn was standing there, appearing slightly miffed.

“Can I have a word with you, Kurt?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” Kurt suddenly felt like a dog with his tail between his legs, feeling as if he was about to be scolded. He knew he must have been making a bit of a scene, and he wasn't proud of his behavior.

Tim pulled him aside to a part of the workroom where they wouldn’t be overheard.

“I can tell you’re having a hard time with your mentee today, but might I advise that you step away for a while? Crowding her is not going to help any, and there’s a lot of negative energy in your corner.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s such a personal cause to me,” Kurt explained. “And I just don’t know where she’s coming from. It’s almost like a personal insult, that she doesn’t care enough to do things in a way she knows works, like she doesn’t even want to use everything we’ve worked on together to win this.”

“I understand,” Tim said. “But you’re apologizing to the wrong person, Kurt. You need to understand that, while you are an integral part of your team and its success, this isn’t about you, and this behavior is very unlike you and unbecoming if I do say so. I’m disappointed. All you can do is be a guide. If they want to listen, they will. But you need to let them make mistakes as well.”

Kurt felt like he’d just taken a blow to the face, hearing those words leave Tim’s mouth. He’d made his fair share of mistakes in the past, but he never would have thought he’d screw up that much, enough to earn Tim Gunn's disapproval. He was ashamed, and he knew he wasn’t acting like himself.

After the talk with Tim, a humbled Kurt approached Viola again to offer her a lengthy sincere apology, and he admitted he was being an ass and that he did trust her. And couldn’t they agree to disagree? The truth was that he knew she had the talent, and it wouldn’t be right to not support her and her vision, especially after she’d help carry him all this way to the finale - and he’d really like to take two to the final runway.

He was incredibly glad that she’d accepted his apology and seemed to be harboring no ill feelings toward him. Surely she understood that tensions and stakes were high and sometimes it affected people adversely. During the remainder of his time with his mentees, Kurt did his best to offer his advice and criticism without being overbearing.

When their workroom visit was over, Kurt exited with the others, leaving the few remaining mentees to their work so they could finish in time for the big auction.

-s-

As soon as Blaine saw his husband’s name pop up on the caller ID, he dropped the slice of pizza he’d been chowing down on and raced to answer his phone.

“Hey,” Kurt greeted, sounding weary and a bit glum.

“Hey, Kurt,” Blaine began hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”

“Am I that obvious?” He let out a lengthy sigh. “Let’s just say that things have not turned out as I’d hoped. I made a huge blunder with Viola, and Tim Gunn had to talk to me, but we got through it. All the while, I had my head too far up my ass to realize that I’d practically ignored Ruby.”

“Oh, Kurt. Did she get eliminated...?”

“Yeah, I lost her. I spent so much time with Viola that I didn't know Ruby was struggling. I thought she would be the one who I’d take to the end, but I lost her along with the advantage in the finale.”

“But you still have Viola,” Blaine said, trying to be optimistic. “I thought you said she was doing an excellent job and had really surprised you.”

“She surprised me alright. The dress she created for the challenge auctioned off for just over fifteen thousand.”

Blaine let out a low whistle. “That’s incredible.”

“Imagine if our garments went for that much. We’d be very well-off.”

“We’d finally be able to make that move you've been wanting to - to SoHo. Get a bigger place, maybe with a few bedrooms.”

Kurt was quiet for a while. “Why would we need more than one bedroom?”

“I don’t know,” Blaine lied. “Just to have extra space, I guess. So we don’t feel so cramped. You could even have an office or workspace at home.”

“Our place is pretty spacious, and I've grown fond of our neighborhood, but I wouldn't mind finally being able to make it in the heart of Manhattan.”

“Well, who knows? Maybe there'll be a change in the winds soon. We’re gonna have a lot to discuss when you get back, business and otherwise.”  

Kurt hummed. “But how about we wait to do the talking thing. I’m going to need at least three whole days to recuperate, three days of just you and me, shut in in our apartment, just catching up.”

“I like the way that sounds,” Blaine said, his voice softening. “I can definitely wait to talk. God, I miss you so much.” Blaine had to bite his tongue so he didn't reveal the secret he’d been keeping from Kurt about the finale.

“Soon, my dearest darling Blaine. It’ll all be over, and I’ll be home and we can relax. And then we’ll have the holidays, which I hope we’ll spend in Ohio.”

“Of course,” Blaine said.

“But, now, my stomach is calling me away. I love you, and I’ll talk to you soon,” Kurt said.

“I love you too, Kurt. Talk to you soon.”

Blaine set his phone down on the counter, returning to his half-eaten pizza slice. What he saw when he approached his food made him chuckle, coo, and shake his head: Barkley was sitting up, still as a statue, his sad eyes fixed on the pizza and nose pointing like a compass.

But he sat like that in a disciplined manner and didn't dare touch the food. Blaine knew that Kurt would be proud of him and how he’d successfully trained the dog, and he’d done it just in time, feeling confident that he would behave for Tyler.

Yes, things seemed to be in order, and Blaine finished up his dinner before washing up. When he entered the bedroom, he finished packing a few final things into his suitcase, zipped it up, set his alarm, and then climbed into bed. He stared at the plane ticket sitting on the nightstand until his eyes grew tired, and though his mind was racing and his body thrumming with nerves, he managed to fall asleep with nothing but sweet thoughts of Kurt swirling around in his head.

_“Soon, my dearest darling Blaine...”_

Soon. 


	17. Blown Away

“ _Jesus_ christ,” Kurt swore under his breath as he climbed out of the shower after hearing a knock on his door. What was with people coming to his hotel room? It better not be Isaac again, he thought, but then he figured he'd forgotten to hang the door hanger that read ‘do not disturb’ on the knob, and it was probably just the cleaning staff. He quickly threw on a robe in the midst of his morning routine to avoid shocking the attendant if she happened to swipe in before he got a chance to answer. 

“Coming,” he called out, but when he opened the door, his eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped at the sight of the man on the other side. “Blaine!” Kurt threw his arms around him and pulled him into the room before Blaine even had a chance to speak, quickly pushing the door closed.

“God, it’s so good to see you - to be with you again,” Blaine murmured, digging his chin into Kurt’s shoulder as they swayed in place. He inhaled deeply, catching the familiar scents of Kurt’s shampoo, moisturizer, and toothpaste. It was all so overwhelmingly Kurt, and Blaine couldn't get enough, closing his eyes as he took it all in and relished the moment. 

Kurt finally, reluctantly let go but didn't break eye contact. “How did you - I mean, why - ?” He was too astounded to complete a thought or voice anything coherent. 

“I know. I couldn't believe it either. About two weeks ago, I got a call inviting me to the finale. I wanted to surprise you, so,” Blaine opened his arms and cocked his head to the side, “here I am.”  

“You don’t have any bags? Where are you staying?” Kurt asked.

“Ironically, a few floors up.”

“ _Oh_ , this is so _exciting_!” Kurt clapped and hopped up and down a few times. His excitement was contagious, and Blaine couldn't stop smiling and let out a hearty laugh.

Kurt turned and snatched his phone up off the nightstand. 

“Spreading the good news.” Kurt snapped a picture of Blaine and then turned away, typing furiously on his phone before setting it back down again. “There!”

Blaine’s phone dinged with a Twitter notification. 

* * *

  **Kurt Hummel** @emBarKurt

Look who came to surprise me! @emBarKBlaine

#LA #cuteasever pic.twitter.com/k21...

* * *

 “Did you really have to do that?” Blaine said.

“Yes. Bragging rights, my dear Blaine. Bragging rights. I get to enjoy them for marrying such an attractive man.”

Blaine rolled his eyes at the flattery. “You should finish getting dressed. I know you've already been around town, but I’m itching to see LA,” he said, grabbing Kurt’s waist to bring him in close and nuzzling the fabric of the robe aside to press a kiss to his bare shoulder. 

“I will gladly be your tour guide,” Kurt said, gently pushing him away. “For a small fee...”

“Oh...?”

“We get gelato. Your treat - _unf_ -”

Blaine brought his lips to Kurt’s, cutting him off, and pressed a gentle but firm kiss to them. 

“Deal. You'll be the most adorable tour guide, and that idea sounds delicious. Now hurry, hurry!” Blaine playfully slapped Kurt’s ass, and Kurt jumped and ran giggling toward the bathroom. “I've waited long enough, and I don’t wanna waste any more time by spending even another second without you!” 

-s-

“Why don’t we ever do this back home?” Kurt asked as they strolled along the shore. They’d removed their shoes, stowing them in the tote bag Blaine had brought along, and Kurt dug his toes into the sand, curling them with every step they took, feeling the sun-baked grains between his toes and beneath his soft, fleshy soles. It was a strangely satisfying sensation.

“Walk along the beach by the Pacific Ocean? Hm, I don’t know,” Blaine said, a sly smile playing at his lips, which he then licked the sweet dessert in which they were indulging from. “Or did you mean dessert before dinner?”

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean,” Kurt shot back, swatting at Blaine’s arm. He spooned a bit of gelato into his mouth, savoring it as it melted on his tongue before swallowing. “Have we really been too busy to just enjoy the city? We live in Brooklyn, and I think we've only ever been to Brooklyn Bridge Park twice - once by accident.”

“How about this,” Blaine said, stopping and turning to face Kurt. He grabbed his free hand and lifted it between them, interlacing their fingers. “When we get back, I’ll take you there, and we’ll ride the carousel, rent some bicycles, get some ice cream - whatever you want.”

“Gosh, I wasn’t complaining, just wondering,” Kurt said, his eyes roaming over Blaine’s features and fixing on a bit of gelato on Blaine’s mouth.

“I know, but I want to take you. It can be a date,” Blaine said. Kurt nodded, biting his bottom lip, and then he surged forward and kissed Blaine, licking the residue from the sugary treat from his mouth.

Blaine giggled, kissed Kurt back, and then pulled away. He turned back around, becoming somber, but didn't let go of Kurt’s hand which he gently swung between them as they walked on.

“It really is beautiful here. Even the pictures you sent me don’t do it justice.”

They walked on in silence for a few moments more, staring out across the sparkling water.

“How are you feeling with the finale being tomorrow?” Blaine asked.

“Nervous.” Kurt laughed. “But Viola has really grown as a designer and in such a short space of time. It’s remarkable. Her three-piece collection is nearly complete, so I’m trying not to stress out.”

“I’m excited. It’s been so weird being on the outside. Before, I was either watching you on your season or filming with you, but now I've been completely out of the loop, and it’s like it’s some super secret you have to keep from me.”

“You get to witness the best part - skip past all the boring and the drama - oh, the drama,” Kurt said, letting out an exaggerated heavy sigh.

“That’s the best part though,” Blaine said, lightly elbowing Kurt in the arm. 

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Not when you’re living it.”

He was quiet for a few minutes, contemplating just how he was going to tell Blaine about what had been going on, what had happened between him and Isaac, because, even though Kurt hadn’t done anything wrong, he knew the truth had to come out.

They walked along, coming to and stopping at a bench. Gelato cups now empty, they tossed them in a nearby trashcan and then continued to amble on at an even slower pace.

“Blaine...”

“Yeah?”

“There’s something I need to tell you about.”

Blaine’s heart sank at the shift in Kurt’s tone, and he swallowed, bracing himself. “What is it?”

“You know how I knew Isaac for a while, since before Project Runway even?”

“Yeah, he was your professor at FIT, right?”

“He was, but he was something else to me that I never told you about. I never dated him, but he was one of the hookups from my college years I’d told you about.”

“Are you trying to tell me -” Blaine let go of Kurt’s hand, but Kurt quickly snatched it back, gripping it a little tighter.

“No, no, Blaine, honey! It’s nothing like that. Trust me. He was nothing to me, and he’s still nothing to me, and nothing happened between us since then. In fact, I had all but forgotten it until he felt the need to remind me recently. It’s been a bit weird and uncomfortable to say the least, being here and competing against him again, but I’ve made it very clear that I’m a thousand percent devoted to my husband, the one and only Mr. Blaine Anderson, and nothing and no one, especially that creep, is coming between us.”

“Okay,” Blaine said. “I’m - I’m happy you told me. I mean, I’m not happy knowing that anyone else had you before I did, but I’m glad that I have you now and that you were honest with me.”

“I knew you’d be understanding, and I’m so grateful for that. It’s not easy for me to recount my past, and you know how we’d like to leave it all where it belongs - behind us, far far away in the past. But it feels good to finally get it off my chest.”

Not having a response, Blaine simply smiled and nodded, placed his hand on the small of Kurt’s back, feeling more possessive than usual, and then they continued to walk along. He’d been long enough without Kurt, and these were the moments he wanted to lose himself in without the intrusion of the outside world or ghosts from their pasts. Blaine just wanted to feel close to his husband again, hold him in the present, and to dream about their future together and all it could be.

They’d made their way a fair distance down the beach, the sun beginning to sink toward the water, when Kurt’s stomach rumbled, and they both laughed.

“I guess it’s time to head back, grab some food, and get some sleep for the big day tomorrow,” Blaine said.

“Your room or mine?” Kurt said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Blaine tugged at the collar of his tee. “Well...yours is technically closer.”

“Very good point,” Kurt purred. And they raced off down the sand and back to the sidewalk toward the bus stop.

A bus ride had never felt so long in their lives.

-s-

Blaine’s hands were already on Kurt before the door to the room was completely closed, roaming and searching blindly for hems and access points, yearning to touch bare skin, while his mouth moved against Kurt’s with a fervor that rivaled that which he possessed during the first night in their first place together.

“Kurt,” Blaine moaned into his mouth, a higher-pitched moan answering him back. He finally disconnected their swollen lips, and stepped back, still grasping Kurt’s hips and keeping him at arm’s length. “I wanted -” he said breathlessly. “I have a surprise for you. Give me a second.”

Kurt fell back onto the bed, leaning back and propping himself up on his elbows, his eyes following Blaine’s movement as he went rummaging for his phone in his pocket. He brought something up on his screen Kurt couldn't see, and then music began to play.

Blaine set the phone down on the desk in the room, and then he began to move to the music as he made his way back to Kurt on the bed.

“Oh no, you’re not going to strip for me, are you? Is that what this is? After that cowboy incident, I didn't think our sex life could get any sillier.”

“No, Kurt,” Blaine said, reaching out for Kurt’s hands and pulling him back up from the bed. “I want to dance with you.”

“Is that it?”

“Well,” Blaine began, pulling Kurt in closer and against his body. They began to sway to the rhythm, and Kurt rested his chin on Blaine’s shoulder. “While I was in New York without you, I decided I should do something to keep myself occupied. So I took a dance class.”

Blaine twirled Kurt and then pulled him back toward him, their hips moving together as Blaine guided Kurt along with the steps.

“Oh,” Kurt said. “And you wanted to show me your new moves?”

“Mmhm,” Blaine hummed against his neck, pressing a warm kiss to his pulse point and then gently sucking, sending a pleasant chill coursing through Kurt’s body and heat blossoming from his core and flowing to every extremity.

Neither of them had noticed when the song ended, because Blaine’s mouth was now making a trek down Kurt’s torso, his steady hands removing Kurt’s shirt with some assistance and nimble fingers undoing Kurt’s pants. Blaine pressed a palm against Kurt’s groin and could feel that he was already hard and straining against his pants. He wet his lips with his tongue as he backed Kurt up and back onto the bed and then helped him shimmy out of his pants, tugging at each leg as if he couldn't remove them quickly enough.

Kurt was edged backward up the mattress until his head was above the pillows, and then the wet heat of Blaine’s mouth was on Kurt’s cock, his eager tongue already licking and swirling in a practiced way. Kurt threw his head back into the pillows with a loud moan, and Blaine took Kurt in as deeply as he could before he began to work up a rhythm, throwing his hand into the mix.

In the midst of pleasuring Kurt, Blaine intermittently slowed and stopped before continuing to suck him off, and Kurt finally opened his eyes and looked down between his thighs at Blaine who seemed distracted.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. Sorry, it’s just that -” Blaine sat up, and his gaze turned toward the nightstand. “I can’t focus with that thing looking at me.”

“Huh?” Kurt turned his head to see the Stitch toy staring back at Blaine, and he burst into laughter.

“I’ll take care of that,” he said, reaching over and rotating the stuffed toy around to face the wall so its humongous eyes were no longer watching them. “Better?”

“Much better,” Blaine said with a brief, quiet laugh.

“It’s not like there’s a hidden camera in it or something,” Kurt joked.

“I know,” Blaine said. “Although, that might actually be really - _hot_.”

“Stop,” Kurt gasped through more laughter. “We’re not filming a porno through a nanny cam - and we’re _not_ filming ourselves having sex _ever_.”

“If you insist...”

Feeling Blaine’s mouth return to his cock, Kurt laid back again, sinking into the mattress and pillows and getting lost in the sensation, and Blaine very attentively worked Kurt to climax. Kurt gasped and panted and then came hard with the most obscene moan, shuddering through his orgasm.

Blaine wiped at his mouth, lifting his head to stare wide-eyed at Kurt who looked completely wrecked. “Oh my god, Kurt. That was so _incredibly_ hot.”

“You’re incredibly talented with your mouth,” Kurt said, his voice thick and gruff.

“I kinda wish I could have gotten that on tape,” Blaine said, his voice dropping deeper as he crawled up the bed over Kurt’s form until his face was hovering above Kurt’s, their mouths now just inches apart. He lightly ran the backs of his fingertips over Kurt's cheeks, watching his eyes fall closed for a brief moment. 

“If there’s more where that came from, then there’s more where it came from. No need to worry about preserving things like that...we have a long and healthy sex life ahead of us, sweetheart, and I plan to take advantage of every second of it we can.” Kurt pulled Blaine in against him, crashing their mouths together a bit roughly, and then he pulled away, maneuvering his head to speak into Blaine’s ear, his voice low and soft.

“How about you put that big, hard cock to good use,” he said, biting his lower lip.

Blaine’s entire body flushed, the dull throbbing in his pants becoming a tremendous ache; he didn't need any further convincing, and he dove in for another kiss that was filthy and teeming with desire, relishing the taste of Kurt’s mouth, lips, and skin.

Neither man had an ounce of trouble falling asleep that night atop the ruffled duvet.

-s-

Blaine woke to the muffled sound of the shower running in the bathroom of the hotel room. He wiped at the drool forming at the corner of his mouth and pulled himself up out of the bed, stretching just before he let his feet hit the floor. Blaine watched steam pour out through the cracked door for a few minutes, and then the water turned off.

“Good morning,” Blaine said, poking his head into the bathroom and locking eyes with Kurt's reflection in the mirror.

“It is.” Kurt’s eyes raked Blaine’s body, still unclothed and hair disheveled from the night before.

“It’s too bad I couldn't join you in the shower. I’m kinda upset you didn't wake me up.”

“I couldn't, Blaine. You looked so peaceful, and I know you must be exhausted from the time difference.”

“I’m alright. I don’t think it affected me much,” Blaine insisted, though he did feel a bit out of sorts.

“Well, you don't have anything with you, so you can't shower here anyway. We don’t have much time before we need to be over at FIDM for preparations for the final runway show, which won’t be until early evening, but there’s a lot to do beforehand. You should run to your room while I finish getting ready, and I'll meet you up there so we can go grab breakfast before heading over.”

“I’ll be missing you,” Blaine said, his eyes shining as he shot a goofy grin at Kurt.

“C’mere, silly.” Kurt placed his hand on Blaine’s shoulder, kissing him briefly on the mouth before planting a kiss on his forehead. “I’m not going away ever again. I promise. So if you can survive a few more excruciating minutes apart, then I swear I’m all yours for all eternity.”

Blaine watched as Kurt wrapped a robe tightly around himself, and then he closed the bathroom door, leaving Blaine outside. Blaine gathered and pulled on his clothes from the previous day, preparing himself to do a glorious walk of shame, and then he let himself out, the door shutting with a heavy thud and locking with a faint mechanic buzzing noise.

-s-

As Blaine was rinsing the suds from his hair and body, he heard Kurt let himself into the room with an additional card-key they had procured the previous day.

He climbed out of the shower, pulling one of the big, fluffy hotel towels off the bar, and wrapped it around his waist.

“Oh, hey,” Kurt said as Blaine emerged from the bathroom. He was now fully dressed, and his hair was styled, set high in the front, without a strand out of place. “I have something for you for after you get dressed. Actually, maybe I should give it to you first just in case.”

Blaine watched with curiosity as Kurt pulled a small white, square-shaped box out of his bag and removed the lid to reveal a small brooch in the shape of a bird.

“I designed it and made it myself on one of my days off, like you had suggested. I know it’s not really your style, but I was inspired by your song, the one you wrote for me.”

Kurt set the brooch in Blaine’s outstretched hand, and Blaine examined it with the same fondness he felt whenever he looked at his wedding ring and thought about everything it stood for. 

“ - It’s a blackbird. I’m sorry if you don’t like it. You don’t have to wear it -”

“No, Kurt, I love it,” Blaine said, cutting him off. “In fact, I’m going to wear it today during the finale.”

“Really?” Kurt said, his face breaking into a wide smile.

“Really. Thank you. It’s very lovely, and I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder to be able to wear a one-of-a-kind Kurt Hummel design.”  

And when Blaine was dressed and his hair was styled, Kurt added the finishing touch and pinned the brooch to the left breast of Blaine’s jacket, admiring his work, smoothing out Blaine’s outfit and straightening his bowtie.

It was perfect.

Kurt took Blaine’s hand, pressed a quick kiss to his knuckles, and they left the hotel room, heading off to face whatever came next in the life they were building, not knowing whether victory or defeat.

Regardless, they would face it together. 


	18. Out with a Bang

Kurt was standing there amongst the racks, garments, models, designers, and the typical pre-show commotion thinking back to the first day of the competition. He’d had a lot of doubts, a lot of fears and insecurities. He hadn’t known how this new show would pan out and how different the experience would be than any of his prior time on Project Runway. With relatively little knowledge of the mentees, he’d taken a gamble and chosen a team made up of individuals in which he saw a spark of _something_ , some seed of potential that he believed he could cultivate that would carry them to the end.

He saw something in Ruby.

He saw something in Sam.

He saw something in Marco.

And then there was Viola.

She hadn’t shown much discipline in the beginning, her designs seeming a bit too eclectic and her portfolio lacking cohesion. Kurt thought for sure that Viola would be the first to go from his team. But he’d never been proven so wrong in his life.

And now here they were, standing together in the backstage area of the final runway, about to show her final collection. Kurt was simply blown away by the designs, the detail and the thought she put into the mini-collection, a collection meant to best represent who Viola was as a designer. Kurt could clearly see her in every piece, how they told her unique story in such a concise and skillful manner.

As Kurt watched the models get suited up, assisting when needed, he was feeling emotional and eventually had to step away.

Inside the venue and gathering around the runway, taking assigned seats as they arrived, was a plethora of individuals from the industry, big and small, and Kurt peeked out to see if he could get a glimpse of some familiar faces.

His face broke into a so-large-it-was-almost-painful grin when he spotted none other than Elyse, now with a big, shiny rock on her left ring finger that couldn’t be missed if someone tried, and he wanted so badly to rush out there and engulf her in his arms. He wondered if she was here for work or if this was somehow another one of Blaine’s surprises, and he couldn’t wait to catch up with her after the show.

A few seats down from Elyse and a few rows forward was Blaine, situated right up in the front by the edge of the runway. His heart skipped a beat when he took him in, looking so proud to be there and enthusiastically chatting it up with the people around him, one being Ms. Emma Watson herself.

But time was winding closer to start, and Kurt took a deep breath, turning on his heel and heading over to speak with Viola one last time.

“I wanted to tell you just how proud I am of you,” Kurt began. “This has truly been a wonderful and rewarding experience for me - hopefully for both of us -, getting to work with you and watch you grow as a designer, and I wanted to thank you for always staying true to yourself and your aesthetic. I know we didn’t always agree, but I believe in you. Now, I want you to go out there, and, win or lose, I want you to feel like you are a winner, because you are, Viola. You’ve created some remarkable clothing, often leaving me breathless, and this is just the beginning for you.”

“Kurt, I -” Viola sniffled and wiped at a tear that escaped her eye. “Why did you have to make me cry?”

“I’m so sorry,” Kurt said, moving forward to wrap her in a comforting hug. 

“I know I wasn’t your first choice, but I really hope I proved myself to you, that I was worthy enough to be on your team.”

“You never had to prove yourself to me. You are a remarkable talent, and you don’t need others to validate you. You are amazing, Viola.”

“Thank you, Kurt. I - I need to get out there now.”

“See you on the other side,” Kurt said with a small smile, trying to hold back tears of his own.

Viola turned back around, her eyes shining. Her face broke into a bright grin. “See you on the other side.”

Microphone in hand, she stepped out onto the runway and into the burning lights to roaring applause.

It was strange, being at this point in the competition once again, but this time he wouldn’t be going out on the runway at all. Instead, he had sent someone else out, and he felt like a parent who was sending his child out into the world for the first time, trusting that she’d learned everything she needed to know to make it on her own. And he was watching another person’s dream coming to fruition, knowing how it felt when he once stood in her place. Now it was her time, her star was rising, and Kurt couldn’t be happier.

Despite his involvement in the competition, he knew he couldn’t take much credit for her work and what she had accomplished.

But they did get there together, and Kurt began to tear up as Viola’s final looks went down the runway.

Kurt finally knew what it all meant, about it not being about him, and he felt like he now knew how Tim Gunn felt with every designer who’d ever passed through Project Runway, being able to witness them all find their footing, plant their roots, and blossom and branch out in the industry, and now he was part of the process and the experience, had the chance to be a mentor and a friend.

Winning didn’t matter at this point. He had told Viola she was already a winner, and Kurt knew that he was already a winner too. He’d made so many new friends and acquaintances, met so many people, made connections and had unforgettable lifelong experiences during and as a result of the show, and his family had even grown.

There was Heidi, Tim, Nina, and Michael, and both Amanda and Isaac. Professional contacts like Joe and Meredith Kelly, whom he’d been a part of their wedding and enhancing their experience with that gorgeous gown of Blaine’s. Then there was Elyse and Ryan, reunited and now happily engaged and thriving in New York together, the young and ambitious Tyler, and dear, sweet dependable Andrea.

Kurt would cherish the time he’d spent with Marco, Ruby, Sam, and Viola and how they had worked as a team to create some magnificent things. He’d even been so lucky to meet celebrities like Emma Watson and Katy Perry, a potential future client and a delightful one from his past.

And so it had been almost a decade of his life that he’d dedicated himself to the show, had spent connected to Project Runway, and he didn’t regret a single second of it. But now it was the end of an era, time for him to move on, continue to live and grow and make new experiences alongside Blaine. In a way, he felt like he already had it all. Everything else was just a bonus and a blessing.

Kurt was grateful for everything the show had given him. He was even grateful for Isaac, without whom, he probably never would have taken the first leap to audition for the show.

Without him, he never would have found his way to Blaine.

...and there was Blaine...

Kurt looked out into the audience, getting a glimpse of his husband who was on his feet, applauding with an unmatched enthusiasm, and Kurt had never loved him more, and he knew that his love for Blaine would only grow with the passing of time, no matter where their intertwining and winding paths took them.

-s-

Kurt rose quickly to his feet when Blaine turned the corner and entered the lounge where he, Isaac, and their mentees were all awaiting the judges’ decision.

“They let you back here?” Kurt said in disbelief.

“Yeah, I guess that’s a perk of being married to the star of the show,” Blaine said.

“I’m sure it helps that you’re a Project Runway alumnus as well, _and_ my partner.” Kurt glanced around, briefly making eye contact with Isaac who appeared stiff and uncomfortable. Blaine followed Kurt’s eyes, and then Kurt spoke again to redirect his attention.

“The last time we were in here together - well, not this exact lounge - but we were waiting to hear of your inevitable victory,” Kurt said, grabbing Blaine’s hand and leading him back over to where he’d been seated on the couch prior to Blaine’s entrance. “God, that feels like a million years ago though.”

“Ah, yes, our glory days,” Blaine jested, running his hand across Kurt’s thigh and resting it on his knee. “I didn’t know you ever had it in you to throw the competition, and I was so mad at you for it.” Blaine let out a low laugh, his eyes fixed on his wedding ring. “But, hey, I guess I can’t complain about how everything panned out.”

“Nope,” Kurt said, pecking Blaine on the cheek. He looked up at the clock on the wall and then back at Blaine. “Any minute now, and we’ll finally know our fate.”

“For some reason, I’m not even nervous,” Viola said, cutting into their conversation.

“I think that means that you’re confident enough with what you’ve created that you’re at peace with whatever happens,” Blaine offered. “Not many people know that feeling. But you have a reason to be confident. What you sent down that runway tonight was definitely something to be proud of, win or lose. And I know Kurt’s proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Viola said, her cheeks coloring at Blaine’s words. “That means a lot coming from you.”

Shortly after their exchange, a crew member summoned the group, and they rose from their seats.

They shuffled out into the hall and made their way to the smaller runway that was usually used for the show, set off in a room in the back of the building and away from the crowd.

When they arrived, Blaine was not allowed to enter, so Kurt kissed him before they parted, and then entered the room with Viola by his side.

The three finalists lined up on the runway facing the judges, and Kurt and Isaac hung back and stood just behind them.

Their models came out to stand beside them, and Kurt looked around at every garment, evaluating them one final time. There wasn’t a single dud in their midst.

At the eleventh hour, it was still anyone’s game.

The judges praised all of the designers along with their mentors, and then Kurt braced himself, holding his breath.

“Kurt Hummel...congratulations!” Tim Gunn announced. “You and Viola are the winners of Project Runway Under the Gunn.”


	19. What It Does To You

He’d done it. It wasn’t some crazy figment of his imagination.

Kurt Hummel had won Under The Gunn.

When he got his bearings again, he looked around and saw Blaine beaming at him and clapping with the rest of those who had gathered at the runway show and were now pouring into the room.

Then a body flung itself against his own, nearly knocking him over. Familiar hands found familiar areas at his waist, and then Blaine was kissing him right there on the runway.

Déjà vu.

And Kurt grabbed onto Blaine and kissed him back, laughing softly into his mouth through the kiss.

When they finally pulled away from each other, there were tears in their eyes, both overwhelmed, caught in an eddy of emotion.

“I don’t even know what I won,” Kurt said, beginning to giggle. He was sure he’d been informed of the prize at least a dozen times, but his mind had gone completely blank from the shock of winning.  

“It doesn’t matter. The prize doesn’t matter,” Blaine said, an almost insane smile on his face.  

Kurt drew Blaine in for another kiss.

“I know this is a very joyous occasion, Kurt,” Tim Gunn cut in. “I don’t want to interrupt you two, but I need to move things along to discuss your winnings. The faster we do, the sooner you two can get out of here and celebrate,” Tim said with a wink.

-s-

When they settled down in the lounge, the prizes and terms and conditions were presented to Kurt.

“A Lexus....” Blaine let out a whistle. “What are we going to do with that? We can’t possibly keep a car in the city. Besides, we really don’t need one.”

Kurt thought for a moment, the pen poised at his mouth. “How do you feel about giving it to Finn? With Rachel and the baby and all his other responsibilities, I’m sure he could use something that’s just his.”

“That sounds perfect, Kurt. He’ll really appreciate it,” Blaine said. He laid his hand on Kurt’s thigh and squeezed, an action that was met with a grin from Kurt. Then Kurt leaned over and began to sign all the papers.

“But here’s the best part,” Kurt said, lifting the document up and pointing for Blaine to read. “The spread in Marie Claire and the guest editor op.”

“I guess this is the perfect time to tell you about something that’s been on my mind then,” Blaine began. “I was wondering how you felt about me designing menswear again, and maybe we could use the spread as a way of launching it as part of the line?”

“We can talk more about it, but I don’t see how that’s a bad idea at all. It is, after all, where you came from, where most of your skills lie. I’d have to be an idiot to tell you no.”

“As for the guest editor op, I can see you having a ball with that.”

“Yeah, I think it’ll be a great experience,” Kurt agreed. He finished signing the papers and relinquished them to the proper party.

Viola was finishing up, looking over her contract one final time, and then Kurt approached her.

“Can I speak with you for a moment? I have a proposition.”

“Of course. What is it, Kurt?”

“How would you like to join my team? Like, permanently?”

“Do you mean come work for you in New York?” Viola said.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean. You would be a great addition, and we’d love to have you - I would love to have you there,” Kurt said.

“Wow. Thank you so much for the offer, Kurt. Can I think about it? It’s just...I’d have to rearrange my entire life, and I’m not quite sure I’m ready for that big of a change yet.”

“Well, the offer stands, for whenever you’re ready and you make your decision,” Kurt said. He fished out his phone and handed it to Viola. “Go ahead and enter your number so we can keep in touch.” He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. “It’s been a pleasure to work with you, and you deserve everything you’ve won,” he added.

She swiftly programmed her contact information into the phone. “I loved working with you too, and I’ll never forget what I’ve learned from the experience,” she said, handing it back with a smile.

-s-

Sirens sounded in the distance, and Kurt laid there, eyes closed, listening to the noises from the street and feeling the cool air in the apartment wash over his bare skin. He never knew he’d miss the constant movement and rattle of New York, but it was familiar and a strange comfort, and his lips curled into a smile as he relaxed to the city soundtrack, sinking into the mattress and pillows.

When the mattress dipped beside him, he opened his eyes, blinking and turning his head to take in a nearly naked Blaine, sitting up on his knees, his palms rested upon them and legs tucked underneath him.

“Since we both went a little overboard with those bottles of wine back in California, I’d like to point out that we never had proper victory sex,” Blaine said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, god, how embarrassing was that. We both passed out before we could even touch each other. But the wine was from Napa Valley, and I couldn’t resist. It would have been a hassle to bring it home with us in our luggage, so we had to finish it there.”

“And that’s why we should make up for it now,” Blaine said, crawling closer to Kurt in the bed.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you could be a lawyer? Because your logic is flawless.”

“Speaking of flawless...well, you could be a model,” Blaine said, running his fingertips the length of Kurt’s arm. “With your gorgeous skin, long, lean body, and the most handsome facial structure and beautiful eyes. To think, if I was a sculptor or a painter...” His gazed dropped, lashes fanning as he spoke, voice growing gruff. “I could spend hours with my mouth on that neck and jawline, tracing each ridge and curve. And that hair - I could run my fingers through it for days, or get a good grip on it while I’m fucking you from behind...”

“ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt moaned. “ _Jesus_ , what has gotten into you?”

“Nothing yet, but I’m sure something could be arranged, depending on what type of mood you’re in,” he said, not missing a beat.

“Fuck, I’m - please just touch me,” Kurt said, almost a whimper, grabbing Blaine’s wrist and pulling his hand closer, needing to feel him.

“Gladly.” Blaine ran his hands down Kurt’s chest, feeling the ripple of Kurt’s ribs, venturing farther down, tracing thumbs over hip bones, and then he lowered his head and mouthed at the fabric over Kurt’s cock, already rock-hard and straining against his briefs.

Not wanting to torture Kurt any further, Blaine granted it its freedom with a quick pull down on the waistband with both hands, watching it spring upward toward Kurt’s belly. He wrapped his fingers around the head, his thumb massaging the underside before sliding his hand down, and then he began to slowly pump his fist to Kurt’s approving noises.

_“Take me down to the river_

_Underneath the blood-orange sun...”_

“What is that?” Kurt said, his voice coming out a near squeak, and he looked down at Blaine, his brow furrowing.

“Katy...Perry. It’s my phone.” Blaine pouted and looked away toward the device.

_“Say my name like a scripture_

_Keep my heart beating like a drum...”_

Kurt chuckled. “When did you change your ringtone to that?”

“A few weeks ago.”

_“Legendary lovers, we could be legendary...”_

“Are you going to answer it? Or at least silence it?”

“Yeah, alright. I’ll get it.” With a groan, Blaine climbed off the bed, retrieving his phone from the nightstand. The caller ID read ‘Tyler’, and Blaine answered the call, sitting hunched on the edge of the bed facing away from Kurt.

He suddenly sat bolt upright. “Are you serious? You’re being completely serious right now?” Blaine was quiet as he listened to the voice on the other end rattle off information. “Wow, um, Kurt’s going to flip when I tell him.”

Kurt sat up quickly. “Whoa, whoa, what exactly is Kurt going to flip over?”

Blaine gave him a look and held up his index finger. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll discuss it when Kurt and I are back in the office in a few days.”

Blaine disconnected the call, set his phone down, and then turned back toward Kurt with a huge, dazed grin on his face. “Emma Watson called the boutique to arrange a commission. So did Emma Stone _and_ Andrew Garfield. All for awards season.”

“What?! Really? That’s incredible! I mean, that’s really - unbelievable. Not just one, but three celebrity commissions?”

“Menswear, I really am doing menswear again. I imagine they’re going to want coordinating looks,” Blaine said, running his hand through his hair, still dazed and lost in his own world.

“It’ll be like that time we had to design a couple’s look for the red carpet.”

“Yeah...” Blaine was quiet as he crawled back into the bed and over to Kurt’s side. “You do realize that we just got cockblocked. Again,” he deadpanned. Laughter bubbled up from within him, and it burst forth when he realized the irony of the situation.

“But, hey, at least it was good news both times. It could be much worse,” Kurt said.

“That’s very true. But what I wanna know is how it is that everyone has life-changing news to share when we’re trying to have sex.”

“And always when we’re celebrating something else. I guess our love is just that powerful,” Kurt said with a shrug.

Blaine hummed, as if considering the validity of the statement. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He gazed into Kurt’s eyes, becoming lost for a moment, seeing galaxies and his own infinity, and love poured out of them, flowing into and overwhelming Blaine. Blaine smiled as Kurt’s expression softened. “Now...where was I?”

“You were using those magic hands of yours,” Kurt spoke softly, his voice then dropping deeper into an almost growl. “But perhaps maybe you could, you know, fuck me from behind like you’d mentioned earlier.”

Blaine’s eyebrows rose, and his pulse spiked. “That could definitely be arranged...we have so many more reasons to celebrate now.”

“We do...” Kurt rolled over onto his stomach, grinding down into the mattress as Blaine began to massage his lower back just above the curve of his ass, his cock, already full with arousal, catching friction on the sheets.

“And I’m going to start by doing - _this_.” Blaine slowly ran his tongue up the crevice of Kurt’s ass.

“Oh, _god_ \- _Blaine_.” Kurt’s entire body shuddered as a pleasant wave of heat coursed through him, his cock growing harder against the sheets and mattress.

Kurt let out a series of moans, some closer to soft puffs and gasps for air, as Blaine continued to massage his back, and he relaxed, simultaneously feeling like he was sinking deeper into the mattress and oblivion and feeling its firm support where his cock was caught between his belly and its surface.

With one hand still on Kurt’s back, Blaine stretched his arm out toward the nightstand, reaching for the small bottle of lube. Kurt felt a chill run the length of his body at the soft pop the lid made upon being opened, his cock throbbing beneath him.

It was cool on Blaine’s fingers, and Kurt writhed a bit as Blaine touched his heated skin, feeling only the slight pressure and sensation with his face pressed into the pillow.

Blaine slid a finger slick with lube inside Kurt, and it went in easily, as if Kurt had already prepped himself. Kurt was loose like putty, relaxed and open for Blaine as he pushed in another finger, working Kurt open within minutes.

“Just do it,” Kurt said, his voice thick. “I need more. I need _you_ , Blaine.”

“Oh, but I’m not ready yet.” Blaine smirked, fully aware that Kurt couldn’t see it, and then he rose up on his knees, positioning himself behind Kurt.

Kurt groaned at the slide of Blaine’s hard, swollen cock between his cheeks, teasing him, just brushing over his entrance which was throbbing from want, and Kurt was aching, wanting to be filled.

And then Blaine pushed in, and Kurt gasped, nearly sighing in relief.

“God, you can be so mean sometimes,” Kurt growled, which transformed into a moan as Blaine thrust into him and began to move.

“But you love it,” Blaine said, pulling back and nearly all the way out of Kurt.

“I d- _oo_.”

Blaine pushed back in and began to fuck harder into Kurt, working up a steady pace and rhythm, and then he leaned forward, pressing his chest against Kurt’s back as he continued to roll his hips forward and sink his cock deeper inside him.

“ _Oh_ ,” Kurt began to whimper, “oh, god. _Yes_.”

Kurt felt the slow drag of Blaine’s hand from his shoulder, up his nape, and then fingers tangled in his hair.

“I’m so glad there’s no product in your hair right now,” Blaine said, his fingernails scraping lightly over Kurt’s scalp as he grabbed tufts of hair, grasping and winding strands around his fingers. Blaine continued to moved inside Kurt, hand still grasping the hair at the back of Kurt’s head, yanking it back slightly, and Kurt arched his back, pushing up against Blaine so he could move.

Kurt’s hand began to venture down beneath his belly, but Blaine grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand to the side and sliding his own underneath Kurt, firmly taking hold of his cock. Blaine stroked Kurt in time with his ever quickening thrusts, reveling in the desperate sounds escaping Kurt, knowing that he was so _so_ close.

Then Kurt cried out, hot come pulsing over Blaine’s fist, and Blaine closed his eyes and jerked his hips forward.

“Oh, _Kurt_ ,” Blaine keened as he came inside him, shuddering through his orgasm.

They collapsed, Blaine still draped over Kurt, chest pressed to his sweat-slick back, and Kurt didn’t mind the weight, too blissed-out to care and so warm, comfortable, and happy.

Their eyes fell easily closed as they laid there, connected, not talking, just breathing, their lungs filling and emptying, bodies rising and falling in sync, enjoying the moment and the afterglow.

And Kurt tuned in to the street sounds once more, now a whirring like a soothing lullaby. Everything was in its place. All was how it should be.

“So, Blaine,” Kurt began, finally breaking the comfortable silence.

Blaine rolled slowly off of Kurt and onto his side. “Yes, dear?”

“If we were ever to, let’s say, expand business to the West Coast, and we decided to live there part time, how do you feel about San Francisco?”

“Magical.”

Kurt laughed, turning on his side to face Blaine, a dubious expression on his face. “Magical?”

“Yes. I could totally rock a Full-House-style Victorian row house even if we were stacked on our neighbors. It’s almost the white picket fence and the dog in the yard kinda thing, you know?”

“I never pegged you as someone interested in the suburbia, domesticity scene. But I guess we already have the dog.”

“I love the city, Kurt. I’ve lived in one my entire life. But sometimes I wonder how it would be to settle down somewhere quieter,” Blaine said.

“You do know that San Francisco is still a city, right?” Kurt said.

“Yes, but with the bay and the ocean and the West Coast, it would just be a nice change of scenery.”

“And the trolley,” Kurt said. “And the gayborhood.”

“Mmhm.”

“Who knows where life will take us next,” Kurt said. He wrapped an arm around Blaine and pulled him closer against his body, and Blaine pressed his lips to Kurt’s shoulder. “Wherever it happens to be, I’m sure it will be more than magical.”

 


	20. It's A Wonderful Life

With the dawning of Christmas Eve, there’d yet to be any snow, and it seemed there’d be no White Christmas for the family gathered in the living room with the television on, playing through a marathon of holiday flicks as the soft glow of the screen permeated the dim room. There was a sizable tree, decorated and twinkling, in the corner with an abundance of gifts beneath its branches. But they were warm, safe inside from the biting chill that warned of a winter storm.

They were glad, both Kurt and Blaine, that they’d made it back to Ohio without a delay in travel, giving them more time to spend with Burt and Carole, Finn, Rachel, and Collin. If the weather permitted, Chicago was the next stop on their agenda, having planned to spend the New Year with Blaine’s mom and brother.

Kurt returned from the kitchen, a tray filled with mugs of hot cocoa, and he distributed them amongst the group of grateful individuals. Blaine was huddled up on the loveseat, his knees drawn up to his chest, and he stretched his legs back out, setting his feet on the floor upon accepting his own hot beverage.

“Thank you,” he murmured, turning his cheek to catch the kiss Kurt had leaned in to give.

“Any time, love,” Kurt said, settling back onto the cushion beside Blaine. He wound an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in against his side, and they sipped their cocoa, absentmindedly watching the proceedings on the television.

“Mm, is this dark chocolate?” Blaine said, licking at his lips where some of the drink remained.

“That it is,” Kurt said. “I wish I had some whipped cream because I know how much you like it, but, alas. It turns out my dad has actually been eating healthy -”

“Only because I won’t let him do the grocery shopping,” Carole quipped.

“She’s right, and she’s a very smart woman,” Burt admitted, and those who heard the conversation chuckled good-heartedly.

Blaine grew quiet, his eyes roaming. The new object of his attention was his nephew, seated on the carpet a few feet off, while Barkley ran circles around him. Collin giggled and squealed at the antics of his new, four-legged companion, and Blaine’s heart felt so full as he watched. It was so easy now to imagine how things could come to be, how he could just as easily be watching his own little one with the dog.

Unexpectedly, Kurt set his mug aside on the end table with a clink and left the couch, crouching down to join Collin and Barkley on the floor. He scooped the chubby, wriggling toddler up into his arms and peppered kisses all over the squirming boy’s face and atop his head, and then Kurt began to tickle him. Kurt lifted his shirt and blew a raspberry on his belly, laughing as Collin continued to giggle and fidget until he was red in the face, his laughter growing louder and bordering on shrieks.

It was killing Blaine now to see how good Kurt was with his nephew, and he was positively melting at the interaction, his heart aching and yearning to see Kurt with a child of their own. It had been weighing so heavily on his mind, becoming burdensome like an untold secret, and he knew he couldn’t keep quiet about it for much longer. Now wasn’t the time, god forbid he ruin the moment, but Blaine planned to broach the subject soon, maybe even that night.

-s-

When all the family and guests had gone off to bed, the house had fallen silent, and Kurt and Blaine laid spooning in Kurt’s old bedroom, pressed very close together to fit in the small, twin-size bed.

Blaine cleared his throat gently. “Kurt?”

“Hm?” He sounded like he was on the verge of sleep.

“I’ve been thinking - I’ve been thinking a lot about something. I need to say it now, and I want you to hear me out.”

“Huh? What is it?” Kurt rolled over, his brow furrowed as he looked into Blaine’s face, attempting to read him.

“I want to have a kid. I want a baby, Kurt. With you.”

“Blaine, I -”

“No, don’t say anything just yet. Please just listen to what I have to say.”

“Alright.”

“When you were in L.A., I had a lot of time to myself and a lot of time to think. And I kept thinking about our future and the business and expanding. I was thinking about family and growing into something more, about sharing our life with someone else - not just the dog. I want to be what my father never was. I want to do it the right way. And there are several avenues to go about it.”

“It seems like you have put a lot of thought into it.”

“More than I’d like to admit,” Blaine said. “It’s been on my mind for months now, but I just didn’t know how or when the right time would be to bring it up. But seeing you with Collin and how good you are with him made it impossible to remain quiet. I just know that you’ll be an amazing dad, Kurt, and I want to experience being a father with you.”

Kurt was quiet for a very long time, causing a slight panic to rise and twist in Blaine’s stomach, but he suppressed it with a deep, calming breath.

“What are you thinking, Kurt?” he spoke softly, his voice just above a whisper.

“I’m imagining what it would be like. Like, how we would go about it, what we’d do about a nursery in our apartment, what it would be like to hold and care for a precious new life that I may be responsible for bringing into the world....To be completely honest, Blaine, I’m not sure we’re ready. But these things do take time, so whether we use a surrogate or choose to adopt, it’ll still be a while before we have a baby or a child.”

“Yeah,” Blaine agreed, “but, wait, do you mean...?”

Kurt swallowed and nodded.

Blaine felt his throat tighten from an onslaught of emotion, and his mouth quirked upward into a smile he couldn’t hold back, tears springing to his eyes.

“Kurt? You’ve given me one of the greatest Christmas gifts ever.”

A faint whine sounded from the foot of the bed, and Kurt and Blaine began to laugh.

“Do you think he’ll be jealous?” Blaine said.

“Probably, but he’ll get used to it. Between the two of us, we have more than enough love for him and our possible future child.”

-s-

On Christmas morning, tiny fingers ripped into wrapping paper and tore tissue paper out of shiny bags, squealing laughter in its wake at the reveal of numerous toys. When Collin pulled the Stitch stuffed toy out of its bag, his mouth made a surprised ‘o’, and he hugged the toy to his chest, swaying in place, a large grin soon taking over his every feature.

“I think he loves it,” Finn said, laughing. “Thank you, guys.”

“It’s nothing,” Kurt said. “Are you ready for your gift, Finn?”

“Sure,” Finn said, taking the small box from Kurt. He untied the neat bow, pulled the wrapping off, and then removed the lid. “These are - these are car keys, Kurt.” Finn pulled them out to examine them more closely, handling them like they were made of glass. He swallowed thickly. “These are for a Lexus. Shit.” He slapped a hand over his mouth. “I mean, are you serious?”

“Completely serious. It’s at the local dealership waiting for you to pick it up. You’ll just need to sign the title, and it’s all yours.”

“This is insane, I mean, how could you even afford this?”

“It was part of Kurt’s prize from Project Runway, but since we don’t need a car, we figured you’d benefit much more from it,” Blaine explained. “So don’t worry, we’re not hurting financially from it. It was a product of Kurt’s hard work alone, and you’ve been working so hard, taking care of your family and all, so we wanted you to have it.”

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much, Kurt - Blaine.” Finn hesitated for a moment and then rose from his seat, wrapping both Kurt and Blaine in a tight embrace, and they laughed at the somewhat awkward group hug and Finn’s ability to hold the two of them like that.

Rachel was sitting there, now cradling Collin in her lap, and she’d missed most of the gift exchange, but then Blaine turned to her, handing her an envelope.

“This is from Kurt - and me.”

“Thank you.” She turned it over and lifted the flap. Rachel’s eyes widened as she pulled out two round trip plane tickets to New York. Her breath hitched when the rest of the envelope’s contents were revealed. “Broadway...” She was in complete awe as she read the details to herself.

“It’s a gift certificate,” Kurt explained. “You can redeem it whenever for whichever three shows you want to see.”

“It’s entirely up to you, and when you do come to New York, you are more than welcome to stay with us for a week,” Blaine said. “Or, if you prefer, we can put you up in a hotel.”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Rachel said, her eyes shining with tears. “I’ll stay with you two. I want to spend time with you guys.” Tears began to stream down her face, and she appeared to be paralyzed.

Kurt instinctually took Collin from her arms, handed him to Finn, and then hugged Rachel, gripping her to him, and she hugged him back, squeezing a little too hard. It was the first time Kurt and Rachel had shown any affection for each other. Admittedly, though he wouldn’t say it out loud, Kurt had warmed up to Rachel, and he thought he might even grow to really like her. After all, she was his sister-in-law, and he was willing to let bygones be bygones, to turn over a new leaf for the sake of family.

In the end, no matter what the future had in store for them or where life took them - New York, L.A., Chicago, Paris, or Milan - , it was coming home to family that really mattered, and Kurt was forever grateful and would always cherish his family as it is now and as it may come to be.

 

* * *

 

_three years later..._

 

The workroom was alive, abuzz like a hive of busy bees, its occupants moving about in a sort of choreographed manner, easily stepping around each other, working together in a fluid, natural way that only came with practice and pure creative chemistry.

The boss was in town and would be arriving at any second, and the team of designers, seamstresses, and assistants were hard at work, straightening up and preparing for his visit. Marco oversaw as usual, ensuring that everything went smoothly. The place had to look pristine, not a thing out of place.

It was a big deal when Kurt Hummel was in the building.

The group stilled and fell quiet when a formidable figure appeared in the doorway.

A clacking from the heels of boots falling steadily upon the glossy linoleum floor filled the room, cutting through the dead silence, and then Kurt paused, planted his feet, and pivoted to address the room.

“Good afternoon, emBarK...”

-s-

Blaine watched as the interviewer scribbled down notes in her log, the two large, glittering rings on her left hand catching and momentarily holding his attention, and then she promptly returned her gaze to Blaine.

Elyse opened her mouth to speak again, to ask the few remaining questions about the men’s line for the upcoming spring, but Blaine’s phone went off, startling both of them and causing him to jump up out of his seat.

When he looked at the screen, his face lit up like he’d just won the lottery.

“Sorry, I have to take this. Can we - will you take a rain check? I need to go -”

Barely coherent, he stepped outside the room, swiftly answering the call with trembling hands, the one he’d been anxiously awaiting for several months.

And then Blaine was off, racing down the halls of the office, whipping around corners, and then impatiently pressing the down button on the elevator several times as if it might make it come faster, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

-s-

“As you all know, we’re about to move into the new quarter -”

“ _Kurt!_ ”

Blaine came bounding into the room looking like a madman, and the entire room turned its attention on him and his untimely entrance.

“Kurt -” he said again, breathless. “I need you. It’s happening, it’s really, finally happening!”

“What...do you mean...?” Kurt spoke slowly, seeing the answer to his unspoken question in Blaine’s eyes.

Blaine nodded vigorously, and Kurt’s face lit up like the sky on Independence Day.

Amid the bemused onlookers, he rushed toward Blaine, embracing him and lifting him into the air, spinning a few degrees before setting him back down.

Without a word of explanation, hand in hand, Blaine tugged Kurt along, they exited the workroom, leaving their team in a collective state of utter confusion, and then stopped just outside the door.

“They want to meet with us this Thursday at three,” Blaine managed, despite everything feeling like a dreamlike blur.

“Oh my god, this is fantastic, Blaine,” Kurt said, getting choked up, tears welling in his eyes. “I love you so much.” He grabbed Blaine’s shoulders, looking him square in the eye, his expression suddenly serious. “You are going to be the best father in the world,” Kurt told him with all sincerity, earnest admiration shining in his eyes.  

“I hope so.”

They were quiet, just staring into each others’ eyes, and then Blaine spoke again.

“But I’m not doing it on my own, you know. If you’re anything like Burt, then this child is going to be the luckiest kid in the world.”

Kurt surged forward and kissed Blaine. It was a lingering kiss filled with all the love he could muster, and he’d held so much for Blaine alone that it was overflowing, burning hot and bright, radiating and practically bursting from his being. And now he’d have one more person into whom he could pour that unconditional, overabundance of love.

And life...well, life was wonderful.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. So here we are at the end of this series. It's really hard for me to believe...it's really difficult to say goodbye to it. In January 2013, after reading dozens of fanfics and after I'd given up writing back in my sophomore year of high school, while sitting in my university's library, I decided to create a Google doc and try my hand at storytelling once more. I was inspired by all the amazing and insanely talented writers in the fandom to write again. It was rough in the beginning - very rough - but I continued to write. And now, over 125k words and two years later, the In Every Stitch series is finally complete. 
> 
> I don't want to keep going on about it, so, if you are indeed here at the end, I want to give you all the thanks in the world for sticking with me, for reading, leaving kudos, providing feedback, and just being totally awesome by following this story from start to finish. :) I really hope you enjoyed it and where I chose to end it. I know I'm happy with it...and I truly enjoyed creating this universe and telling this version of Kurt and Blaine's story. 
> 
> I also want to add that I'm always over on tumblr (quizasvivamos) and willing to talk, so, if you have anything you want to say to me, please don't be shy! :D


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